Veritas Amo
by Rosa di Corte
Summary: Amidst the Second War, in a changing world, two people – Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy – find themselves and each other… DG AU after Book 5
1. Chapter One

**Title:** Veritas Amo

**Author:** Rosa di Corte

**Category:** Romance/Mystery

**Pairing:** Draco/Ginny, Ginny/Draco

**Summary:** Amidst the Second War, in a changing world, two people – Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy – find themselves; and each other... D/G

**Spoilers:** Books 1-5; Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them; Quidditch Through the Ages

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, and Warner Bros., among others. Only the plot and any unfamiliar characters are mine.

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**CHAPTER 1  
**  
The sparse rays of the winter sun filtered through the closed windows of the fifth year girls' dormitory in the Gryffindor Tower. Four beds were arranged in a circle, leaving room for a spacious maroon rug to lie in the center, complementing the surrounding scarlet and gold décor. The occupants of the beds should have all been still slumbering, enjoying the last hour of dream time available before they would be forced to awaken and face another day of classes at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They all should have been asleep, but one was not.  
  
Ginevra Weasley – or Ginny, as she has been called by family and friends for as long as she can remember – sat on the sill of the window closest to her bed, wrapped in a comforter and gazing out onto the grounds of Hogwarts. For the past few years – or, more specifically, since the end of her first year – this had become somewhat of a ritual. Sleep, when it came, was not kind to her psyche. So, more often than not, Ginny would find herself rising with Apollo himself. Over the years, dawn had grown to be her favorite time of day. She had discovered the magic present in the beginning of a new day, especially the peaceful moments before the rest of the world would wake, and reality would slide back into focus.  
  
Ginny sighed as she realized that the other girls would be waking within the hour to ready for classes – too soon for her liking. But in a few days, all three of her roommates would be leaving for their respective destinations – whether vacation sites or homes – for the Christmas holidays. Then she would have the room all to herself, which was something Ginny was much anticipating. Her need for personal space and time alone was one of the reasons she strove so hard to be at the top in her classes, and maintain good standing with the faculty. She knew she was a leading contender for Head Girl in her seventh year, and that such a position stipulated a private bedroom.  
  
Ginny did not like to think of the other factor of her academic success: Tom Riddle, whose ambition – among other traits – seemed have rubbed off on her a bit.  
  
She shivered as snippets of memory from her first year – the confusion, terror, and utter _betrayal_ – returned to taunt her. Almost by instinct, her vision swept over to the lake, and she took a long, deep breath as she felt her heart rate calm a bit. There was some soothing effect that water seemed to have on her, even from this distance. As a child, she would often wander down to the pond behind the Burrow, sitting by the small body of water to read, write, draw, or simply just to get lost in thought while gazing at the water's surface. Here at Hogwarts, she loved to sit by the lake and watch the wind move ripples across previously smooth planes, unbelying of the enchanted world of merpeople and sea-creatures below.  
  
A movement caught out of the corner of her eye rose Ginny out of her scattered reverie, and she turned to face the disturbance. Her roommate, Theresa Kensington, was stirring, a sure indication that it would not be long before she, as well as the other two girls in the dorm, woke. Ginny threw one last wistful glance toward the lake before silently making her way back to her own bed. After depositing her blanket on the bed, she stopped at her trunk to gather her clothing for the day and her shower kit, before making her way to the lavatory located adjacent to the fifth year girls' dorm. Although she had access to the Prefects' Bathroom, Ginny usually preferred to get ready in her dorm. After quickly brushing her teeth and scrubbing her face, she spent more than a few minutes under the spray of a steaming hot shower, to compensate for the blanket she had had to relinquish at the official start of the new day.  
  
Stepping out of the shower, Ginny hurriedly cast a drying charm and threw on her school ensemble – a once-white button-down shirt passed down from some indeterminable brother, a gray pleated skirt from the second-hand store, and Ron's old robes that he grew out of in his third year. She ran a brush through her long red hair before giving herself a quick once over in the mirror by the bathroom doorway. Ginny sighed a bit dejectedly at the picture she presented, before shrugging it off and entering her dorm room to grab her prefect pin – Fred and George had been _so_ disappointed when that had arrived in the mail last summer. She then headed down to the common room, and, upon finding it blissfully empty, walked confidently out of the portrait hole.  
  
After a quiet "Good morning" to the Fat Lady in the portrait, Ginny made her way down to the Great Hall. She was usually one of the first to arrive for breakfast, although she rarely had much of an appetite. When she reached her destination, Ginny found that, as was usual for this time on a weekday, it was barely filled – a few studious Ravenclaws were talking quietly amongst themselves, one or two Hufflepuffs lay half asleep in their plates, and a handful of grim-looking Slytherins were scattered across the table of the snake house. Ginny found herself to be the only Gryffindor present, but as this was not unusual, she simply took a seat and began to fill her plate. Some days Hermione Granger would be down here, with her nose stuck in some ancient volume or other, but Ginny knew that Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley – her own dear brother – had returned to the common room quite late last night, so she did not expect the older girl to be present too early this morning.  
  
Ah, the "Dream Team," as Harry, Hermione, and Ron had been affectionately – or not so affectionately – dubbed. The trio was an inseparable unit that worked each year to keep the wizarding world safe.  
  
Yeah.  
  
_Right.  
_  
It would be more appropriate to describe them as three extremely curious, adventure-seeking teenagers who have a lot of luck – and smarts (Hermione), and power (Harry) – on their side, and manage to foil evil's plans time and time again. Ginny snorted quietly to herself as she considered the three sixth years in question. She had no real harsh feelings towards the trio, she just found them at many times to be quite wrapped up in their own little world, inadvertently alienating other students, especially 'little sisters.'  
  
Ginny was quite used to being shut out by now.  
  
Before arriving at Hogwarts, she had lived in the Burrow with her parents and brothers. Being the only girl had limited her social growth somewhat in the house, and she had rarely played with other children, as Molly Weasley had liked to keep her close so as to keep an eye on her. When the boys had played quidditch or decided to rough-house, she had simply sat alone and watched, as they laughed and fought with each other. This had not kept her from learning how to fly or picking up a few techniques to defend herself – behind their backs, of course. At times, Ron would play with her – usually when the twins had been heavily picking on him – and they would go down to the pond by their lop-sided house, or venture into the small woods to play hide and seek. Ron had been the one to teach her how to play wizard's chess, and he had been the one who would listen when she felt like being a chatter-box and no one else would pay attention – which, in a house of nine people, happened more often than not. In those years, Ron had been her closest confidant, her best friend, and her favorite brother.  
  
But then the time had come for Ron to go to Hogwarts, where he had met Harry and Hermione – and the rest, as they say, is history. Ginny had spent her first year hoping Ron would acknowledge her as a friend once more, not to mention majorly crushing on Harry Potter; but both had been in vain. She had formed tentative friendships with the other three girls in her dorm, but had ended up feeling left out when much of the conversation steered towards clothes and boys – clothes she could not afford, and the one boy she had eyes for treated her as though she were invisible; and the girls in her dorm had known it. In her loneliness, she had turned to a diary.  
  
_The_ diary.  
  
Ginny shivered and continued to play absentmindedly with the food on her plate as the memories overcame her.  
  
Tom Riddle had seemed to be the perfect friend: he had listened to what she had to say – or write – and had offered advice when it was requested. He had comforted her when the other girls giggled at her faded robes and worn- out shoes, told her stories to take her mind off of how dejected she felt when being ignored by Ron and Harry, and helped her with her homework when she was stuck on a particularly tricky spell or potion. She should have known that it was too good to be true – that someone who actually cared to listen to what she had to say, liked her for who she was, and understood her in ways she had never thought possible, could not be real.  
  
It had started with missing time. She could not remember where she had been during the Halloween feast, and other random intervals; she had woken up with a substance that looked suspiciously like blood on her robes, and feathers surrounding her. When she had told Tom about it, he simply replied that she should not worry. It had taken her too long to stop trusting that damn diary, and when she had finally thought she had disposed of it, who should find it but Harry Potter himself. Valentine's Day that year, after that horrid singing Valentine – sent by Fred and George for the sole purpose of seeing how red Ginny could get – had been delivered, Ginny had seen the book of her nightmares in the hands of Draco Malfoy, who had picked it up from Harry's belongings.  
  
In hindsight, stealing the book back had probably not been the best move, but she had been desperate to ensure that the devil in the diary – one of the less colorful references she had devised for Tom Riddle – would not betray her further by revealing her secrets to the boy she had fancied herself in love with. Pathetic, yes, Ginny was willing to concede that much. But she had been only twelve at the time, and was allowed some error in judgment. In the end, her misplaced trust and determination to keep what she had told Tom secret had landed her on the cold, damp floors of the Chamber of Secrets. After having been saved by Harry, and facing a solemn Dumbledore and her worried parents following the incident, Ginny had decided that trust was not something she would ever give lightly again.  
  
Her next few years at Hogwarts had passed relatively uneventfully... for her personally that is. When the dementors had boarded the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of her second year, it was Tom's voice, Tom's laugh that she had heard in the darkness. The escape of Sirius Black had had everyone on edge, and Ginny had managed to gather, from the snippets of conversation she caught before Harry, Hermione, and Ron would notice her presence, that Black was after Harry – not too unbelievable considering he had been thought to be one of Voldemort's most loyal followers.  
  
Ginny's third year had brought the Tri-wizard tournament, and with it the Yule Ball and the final demise of her romantic feelings for Harry Potter. While her crush on Harry had lasted for over three years (beginning with her glimpse of him at Platform 9 ¾ in his first year), its end had come swiftly – or so she would like to think – when it had become clear to her that he cared very little for any feelings she may harbor toward him. When he had stated right in front of her that he had been turned down by the pretty Ravenclaw seeker Cho Chang when he had asked her to the Yule Ball, Ginny had thought her heart may never heal from the rip that seemed to tear into her chest. She gave up on Harry Potter ever caring for her as anything more than 'Ron's little sister' that day.  
  
"Good morning, Ginny!" came a very familiar voice, breaking her away from the thoughts that had been consuming her. She looked up in time to see Hermione slide into the seat directly across from her. The elder girl smoothed over her crisp uniform in her seat and tucked a strand of her now- tamed honey-brown hair behind her ear, before helping herself to some toast and scrambled eggs.  
  
"Morning, Hermione," Ginny replied with a convincing smile. "Late night?" she asked – although she already knew the answer – as she vaguely directed her free hand to the ill-concealed dark circles under the sixth year's eyes.  
  
Hermione returned a strained smile and replied carefully, "Yes, well, there is so much work to do before the winter holidays begin. The sixth years have seven feet of parchment due in Potions alone!"  
  
Ginny decided to accept this answer for the sake of her sanity, and nodded before returning her attentions to her breakfast, and her thoughts.  
  
While Ginny no longer acted as the living and breathing shadow of the Dream Team, she longed for them to acknowledge that she was not some child, and could help in the fight against Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort. This was a battle she fought with not only Harry, Hermione, and Ron, but with the rest of her family as well. She was the youngest, and the only girl, so the members of her family took it upon themselves to make sure she was shielded from anything having to do with the dark arts. This behavior was even more fervently practiced due to the events of her first year, she knew, but it aggravated Ginny to no end that the others could not see that she had learned and grown from the lessons taught by that experience.  
  
In fact, it was because of her first year that she felt so acutely the desire to be working actively against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. What Tom Riddle had done to her may not have been as horrible as what he had done to Harry or the Longbottoms or Cedric Diggory. But that bastard had been in her head for almost a year, manipulating her into his willing puppet. She wanted to show him that he could not break her – that she was not some helpless little girl anymore. That was why she had been so determined to go to the Department of Mysteries last year with the trio and Neville and Luna – she needed to show them she had grown up and could take care of herself. She needed to show Tom that she was a force to be reckoned with.  
  
And what had happened at the Department of Mysteries? She had been utterly useless. She had been threatened, only to have Harry step in front of her as a protector, and she had managed to get her ankle broken. Neville and Luna had at least aided the mission somewhat with their actions, but Ginny could do nothing but limp around. She couldn't even save Ron when that brain had been wrapping itself around him! And of course, that had been the day Sirius fell through the veil, never to return.  
  
She had gone to prove herself, and ended up learning that she was not up to the challenge. No one had said anything to this effect, but the following summer at the Order Headquarters had found her once again outside of the loop, a trend that continued well through the school year to this morning.  
  
Ginny set her fork down on her barely eaten plate of food, before gathering up her things and nodding farewell to Hermione. She exchanged quick hellos as she passed Ron and Harry, trudging through the doors of the Great Hall as she exited, both looking in dire need of a few more hours of sleep. Ginny fought away the niggling thoughts invading her mind regarding whatever new mystery the trio was investigating now – probably for the Order – and made her way out onto the castle grounds for a quick walk before she would need to arrive at Greenhouse Five for Herbology.  
  
It absolutely galled Ginny that everyone else in her family, and Harry and Hermione, were notified of, and involved in the goings-on of the Order of the Phoenix. Still, her mother refused to allow her access to Order information, or to have Ginny in any way included in the various missions currently employed. Molly Weasley would listen to no one when it came to this issue: not the half-hearted attempts of Arthur, or Bill or Charlie. Even Dumbledore had tried to persuade her! It had been an early summer morning when Ginny had made her way downstairs after another night of scarce sleep, when she had come upon them: Ginny had hidden herself in the shadows as she listened to Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the age, try to persuade Molly to see that Ginevra was growing up, and she needed to be aware of what was going on around her to be able to protect herself. But had her mum listened? Of course not!  
  
Ginny strode swiftly and deliberately through the snow towards the iced- over lake, trying to rid herself of the rage and frustration building steadily within. She knew her mother's decision influenced, at least in part, the trio's exclusion of her in their research this year – it was Order business, and she was not authorized access to such _privileged_ information. The three conveniently overlooked how often they had sought out and retrieved information that was to be kept confidential from them, when they told her she could not know what they were researching or doing. Hermione, at least, had the decency to look a bit guilty at the patronization, but Harry and Ron seemed to prefer having Ginny out of the way. If she were thinking more clearly, Ginny would concede that Harry and Ron preferred having Ginny out of _harm's_ way, but she was not feeling so generous this December morning.  
  
After a few deep, calming breaths enjoyed by the lakeside, Ginny made her way to the Greenhouse for her first class. The fifth year Gryffindors had Herbology with the Ravenclaws, something Ginny looked forward to. When she arrived, Ginny found Luna Lovegood waiting outside for her, absently twirling a strand of her light blonde hair. Although many of her classmates found Luna to be weird – bordering crazy – Ginny found the other girl's calm, neutral mannerisms quite comforting. They had met during one of Ginny's visits to the Ravenclaw common room in her third year. Though an invitation had been extended by Michael Corner, the older boy had been running late for their get-together, and Luna had kindly let Ginny into the common room so she would not have to wait out in the halls. The girls had begun as casual acquaintances who, in the absence of other substantial company, grew closer to each other. Now that Ginny knew Luna, she was grateful for the spacey girl, and the humor Luna often unwittingly brought to conversation usually lightened Ginny's mood.  
  
"Did you know that the Siberian Crupses have been rumored to be migrating north this winter, a behavior totally unlike their normal patterns of movement?" Luna asked in her dreamy voice, without so much as a greeting. But then again, their relationship was comfortable without such formalities. "Daddy said we could go look for them after Christmas Day. It would be quite a story for _The Quibbler_ if we were to find anything on our expedition."  
  
Ginny bit her lip to keep from smiling and answered in the most serious voice she could muster, "That sounds fascinating, Luna! Now tell me, what is a Siberian Crupse again?" As Luna went into detail about the six-legged furry being that could supposedly breathe fire, Ginny felt her earlier tension ease. This was why she adored her friend so – Luna's wonder and belief of things wizarding children stop believing in at the age of six was refreshing for Ginny.  
  
The girls made their way to their seats and waited as the rest of the class arrived. Ginny waved as Alessa Rimone – a nice girl she had met through Michael Corner last year – said hello as she passed by to her seat with her Ravenclaw friends. Colin Creevey arrived with another fifth year Gryffindor, Noah Van Clauspen, and they seemed to be talking quidditch. While Ginny enjoyed the sport – as it would be impossible to grow up with six brothers and not gain an appreciation for the game – she thought it was way too early in the morning to be talking quidditch, but obviously Colin and Noah felt differently. Colin came to sit by Ginny and Luna as Noah went to save two seats for the other Gryffindor boys that were expected. Ginny smiled a hello to Colin while noticing her dorm mates enter the classroom with the missing Gryffindor boys. Amanda Nolsen was giggling at something Derrick Spinnet had said – the two had been dating for five weeks, as Amanda would smugly tell anyone who would listen. Bradley Ferguson pulled Derrick away from Amanda to sit in the seats Noah had saved, while Theresa Kensington and Kari Wong joined Amanda in her earlier giggling as they took their seats across from the boys. Ginny looked back to Colin, who had also noticed the exchange, and rolled her chocolate-brown eyes as he grinned at her in response.  
  
Colin Creevey was not the mousy little first year who had followed Harry Potter around with a camera permanently glued to his forehead anymore. No, while Colin still enjoyed photography, he outgrew his hero-worship and revealed himself to be not only a great guy, but also a good friend. Ginny and Luna had gotten to know him and his brother Dennis better through the D.A., or Dumbledore's Army as the group was appropriately titled. Colin was very close to his brother, but after his fourth year, he and Dennis had drifted apart a bit – Colin spent time with Ginny and Luna, and sometimes Neville, while Dennis started to hang around the other Gryffindor third years more often. Ginny knew Colin sometimes missed the time he would spend with his brother, but Ginny saw that their time apart did not hurt their relationship at all – it made their bond all the stronger. _If only my _bond_ with Ron were anything like that, we'd have to be the best of friends by now_, Ginny thought sourly.  
  
She snapped out of her thoughts as Colin nudged her shoulder, and looked up to see that Professor Sprout had arrived and had begun lecturing. Ginny took out some parchment and a quill, and began taking down notes – there was a good chance that this material would be on the O.W.L.'s all of the fifth years would be taking at the end of the year... 

.

.

Draco Malfoy maneuvered confidently through the halls of Hogwarts, smirking as the students parted to make room for him to pass. He was heading down to the dungeons for Potions after two abysmal hours of Transfiguration with McGonagall. It was not that he did not like the subject, he just found the lessons to be tedious – the tutors his father insisted he have during his summer holidays ensured that he was always well- prepared for the school-year. Draco sneered at the thought of his father, who was still rotting in Azkaban. _Not for long_, thought Draco. He knew that the Death Eaters would be moving soon to free their comrades from the prison. The dementors had already left months ago, and the new guards employed with the task of keeping the prisoners behind bars were a sorry replacement. The upcoming holidays presented an ideal time for attack, when people – _victims_, Draco thought irately – would be gathered together, creating appealing targets.  
  
Draco shook is head slightly to rid himself of the angry and morbid thoughts, displacing a few strands of his platinum blond hair, before placing the cool, unemotional façade back on his pale, pointed face. As he continued down the stairwell, his silver-gray eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts. Less than six months ago, Draco had wanted nothing more than to join the ranks of the Death Eaters, serve Lord Voldemort, and gain power while ridding the world of muggle filth. When his father had been sent to Azkaban because of the meddling of Potter and his little gang, Draco's anger and hatred of the Boy Who Lived had reached a pinnacle. He had sworn vengeance, and had made sure Potter knew that it was coming. Of course, the incident with Potter's little club on the return trip of the Hogwarts Express had only added to the fiery rage that grew beneath Draco's cold exterior.  
  
But when he had returned home to his mother, who had been all alone in their manor with only house elves for company after the imprisonment of her husband Lucius Malfoy, Draco had been met with a situation he could not have previously conceived. His mother – his beautiful, noble, elegant mother – had not been pining for her husband, or sending threats to the "right people" demanding her husband's return. Instead, she had been filled with an excitement he had never seen in her before. That summer, without the critical supervision of Lucius Malfoy, Draco had begun to know the woman who had played the part of distant matron all his life. And he had realized that the person he had always seen in the shadows of his father, was not the real Narcissa Black Malfoy at all.  
  
"Draco," he heard the voice through his mental haze and turned to face the speaker. Blaise Zabini gave him a look that asked where he had just been. Draco slightly shook his head in a negative fashion, and Blaise simply raised a dark eyebrow before turning back to the cauldron and materials in front of him. Without realizing it, Draco had arrived at his seat in the Potions dungeon. He quickly looked up to the blackboard to see what potion was to be made. Draco smirked as he saw it was the Viscerion potion – one he had made over the summer. The potion had many meticulous steps, and the ingredients had to be carefully measured, but Draco found the process of making potions to be an art, and it calmed him greatly. He looked over in time to see the Mudblood scolding Weasel for starting the fire too soon – certain ingredients for this potion had to be mixed before being put to heat. Draco snorted, quietly – as the habit was not considered polite at all – and wondered, not for the first time, how Weasley and Potter had managed to get into N.E.W.T.'s level Potions. Draco would bet galleons that that was a question Snape pondered often as well, as the Professor in question took five points from Gryffindor when Potty added too much root of asphodel, and his potion began to emit a purple cloud.  
  
Potter glared at Snape's back when the Professor turned to "assist" another student, and Draco could not resist the impulse to throw a superior smirk his way. Potter saw Draco and scowled, before turning his attention to trying to salvage his potion.  
  
"Do you think they let the Gryffs in this class based on 'special circumstances?'" Pansy Parkinson drawled loud enough for the Gryffindors to hear. She glanced quickly at Snape, who was back at his desk, grading papers and studiously ignoring his students. "Really, think about it. They certainly did not get in on merit, so it must be charity. I mean, Weasley has no money, Granger has no proper heritage, and Potter has no parents," Pansy finished with a smirk that could only be worn by a Slytherin.  
  
The Slytherins chuckled, as expected, while Draco's customary smirk graced his face. "If that's the criteria their using, Longbottom should be in here too," he drawled.  
  
Weasley and Potter, who were previously being barely held back by Granger, wrestled out of her flimsy grasp to attack the Slytherins.  
  
"POTTER! WEASLEY! What is going on here?" Draco sat back, satisfied, and watched the scene unfold. "Attacking other students? 50 points from Gryffindor, and a detention for each of you," Snape said with a sadistically pleased smirk on his face. "I will expect you tonight at seven, Mr. Weasley; and, Mr. Potter, tomorrow, same time."  
  
"But Malfoy – " the Weasel began, but was cut of by Snape.  
  
"But nothing Mr. Weasley, and 10 more points for your further insolence. Now return to your seats and complete the assigned potion before I decide to have you in for detention every night until the beginning of the holidays!" Snape announced before sweeping back to his desk.  
  
A fuming Weasley – with his face as red as his hair – and a decidedly pissed off Potter returned to Granger's side to complete their work, as the chuckles of the Slytherins died down. Draco watched how the dumb-arse duo were cutting up their ingredients, and knew immediately their potions would not turn out as desired. Draco smiled – no, smirked – inwardly before returning to his own potion.  
  
As he added ingredient after ingredient, and stirred when appropriate, Draco let his mind wander. While he was no longer certain of his stance toward Voldemort and his Death Eaters, Draco definitely still despised the Gryffindor "Dream Team." He was, however, feeling less than pleased about his comment regarding Longbottom – it was after all his Aunt Bellatrix that had tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom to the point of mental deficiency. Draco shrugged off the troublesome thoughts and turned back to his memories of the previous summer.  
  
During his two and a half months at home, Draco had grown to know the woman his mother had been before Lucius' control, the woman she still was, away from that cold-hearted bastard. After his tutoring sessions each morning, which Narcissa Malfoy insisted he continue for his own benefit, the two would have lunch, and then proceed to spend the afternoon together. Some times he would work on summer assignments from the Hogwarts professors, while his mother would sit herself gracefully on a grand piece of furniture in the tearoom, reading a book of poetry. Other times they would spend time in the gardens, where he would help her with her prized rosebushes, or just out on the grounds of the Malfoy lands. Once they had even ridden their old steeds to the quaint village that remained standing as monument to the generations when Malfoy Lords had ruled over the province. That was one of his favorite memories, as he hadn't ridden with his mother since he was six, when Lucius deemed the activity "unfit for the Malfoy heir."  
  
Most days, however, they would sit together and talk, while sharing tea and various pastries. Early on, Draco had learned of his mother's true views regarding Voldemort. While Narcissa Black Malfoy was a proud, pureblooded Lady, she abhorred the senseless and unnecessary violence promoted by the Dark Lord. Draco had sensed that she had been waiting long for an opportunity, out of Lucius' watchful eye, to speak with him about the harsh realities of Death Eater life.  
  
"I understand that you are your father's son, Draco," she had said. "I would expect nothing less from you than to be the man Lucius has been trying to mold since your birth." She had paused then, and seemed to be gathering herself. "But, you are a Black, as well as a Malfoy, and for that reason I expect more for you than a life as the Dark Lord's servant."  
  
And that had been the end of discussions regarding Voldemort and Death Eaters. After her quiet declaration, Narcissa had taken their time together to teach Draco about her ancestors, the Blacks, and their importance in the wizarding world.  
  
Draco had never known much more than some general historical facts about his mother's family – _his_ family. The Black line, much like the Malfoy line, was a noble one, and could be traced back to the Middle Ages. One afternoon, Narcissa had taken Draco to a room he had never before entered in the East Wing of Malfoy Manor. There, a tapestry hung in tribute to _The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_. He had listened as his mother spoke of the legacy of the Blacks, which was linked to the very crux of the wizarding world. Draco had seen that at the top of the extensive family tree was Frederick Ellison Black, who was one of the twelve original founders of the Wizards' Council – the governmental body in power prior to the creation of the Ministry of Magic. Draco had already known of the Council, as the Malfoy line could be traced back to Jacques Anton Malfoy, another one of the original founders.  
  
Narcissa had sometimes repeated historical knowledge he – as the Malfoy heir – had learned at a very early age. He had already known of the twelve founders of the first cohesive, political body created for the wizarding world – separately and secretly away from the muggle world. After Hogwarts had been founded in the early 900s, and Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor had sought out students to bring to their school, the wizarding community had grown more connected. Hogwarts, the first wizarding school built in Europe, brought together wizards who were scattered all over the continent and isles – mostly among muggles. Some of the first graduates of the school saw – amidst the blatant persecution of witches and wizards by muggles – the need for secrecy and a separate society for wizard-kind. The times of Merlin and Morgana – when wizards were properly respected and feared – were over. Twelve Hogwarts graduates – Black, Malfoy, Lestrange, Dolohov, Gideon, Kensington, Lendelle, Bragge, Tucker, Zabini, Muldoon, and Clagg – representing all four school founders, worked together to create a system upon which wizard-kind could thrive.  
  
By studying the political history of muggles – both the mistakes and progress made – they created the Wizards' Council, which acted much like Arthur's Round Table. The twelve Lords of the council were equally powerful, and equally responsible for the provinces they had been designated. Land was not to be fought over and titles would not be gained by bloodshed, as was the custom in the earlier Middle Ages of muggle history. After a few generations, it was decided that a chief should be named for the council, for representative and negotiation purposes with other magical beings. The balance of power within the council, however – among the twelve Lords – remained unaltered by the changing chiefs, who were chosen by their fellow Lords.  
  
This form of government worked well for centuries. However, in the early eighteenth century, the muggle concept of democracy spread into the wizarding world, and the people demanded that their voices be heard. The Lords of the Wizards' Council tried to hold off this increasingly popular political system, but the bloodbath that was the French Revolution caused the Nobles to realize that they could either change with their people, or their people could get rid of them and change on their own. The Wizards' Council cooperatively disbanded, but the Lords did not lose their titles, and were allowed to keep fractions of their lands. The Ministry of Magic was established in the late eighteenth century – a symbolic tribute to democracy.  
  
And that was exactly what it was – a _symbol_. The Lords of the disbanded Wizard's Council were society's wealthiest citizens, and they played a large part in constructing the new government. If their titles could no longer wield the power they were used to possessing, then their wealth, influence, and positions in the newly developed wizarding society surely would. A few of the Lords took up high-ranking positions in the ministry, while some others ventured into the private sector.  
  
The power and influence of the twelve Houses was not eradicated by the new form of government; in fact, most thrived on it, and the House of Black was no exception. Over the years, the Blacks, much like the Malfoys, amassed great fortunes. Narcissa had taken great pride in sharing with Draco the accomplishments of the members of the Black lineage. Various Lords of the House contributed to the honor of the Black name, including Lord Duncan Black, who acted as Minister of Magic for a short period in the late 1800s. Lord Rembrandt Black was Britain's first ambassador to the International Wizards' Confederation. Lord Galahad Black made great progress in the field of transportation with the Floo Network. And Narcissa's own great- great grandfather Phineas Nigellus Black passed on his title to his son before taking up the position of Headmaster of Hogwarts, the school which had first permitted and cultivated the creation of a world for wizards separate and safe from muggles.  
  
Draco had been enthralled by the rich history of his family. His minimal prior knowledge of the House of Black, learned from his father's lessons on the progress of the twelve Houses, could not possibly have adequately encompassed what it meant to be a Black. Much like the Lord of the House of Malfoy, the Black Lord carried great power through societal standing and wealth; and with that power came great responsibility – responsibility for his House, for his people remaining on his ancestral lands, and for the greater wizarding society at large.  
  
On the night before his journey on the Hogwarts Express to his sixth year of school, Narcissa had come to Draco's room as he sat reading quietly on his bed. The house elves had already packed his trunk and set it by the door, ready to be taken to the private Malfoy coach for the trip to King's Cross Station the next morning. She had seated herself in the antique chair which complemented his desk, and had looked at him before beginning. When she had spoken, her voice had taken on a tone that had indicated to Draco the importance of what was being revealed. Draco had put away the literature he had been reading, and turned his attention to her. Looking at her, he had seen that her eyes held a sincerity and quiet truth he had never before witnessed, as she shared a last bit of knowledge with him.  
  
"You will be a man soon, Draco," she had begun quietly, and he had not dared interrupt, or insisted that he already _was_ a man, but had listened intently. "You will come of legal age and graduate as a fully-trained wizard in less than two years." She had paused, and Draco had nodded slightly, whether in agreement or encouragement he himself had not been sure. "You must understand this, Draco: As much wealth as the twelve Lords of the Noble Houses possess, their power amongst themselves – in their inner Council – has always been balanced, and has always been passed on to the next heir in line." She had paused again and licked her lips, a nervous tendency she had never dared show in front of her son before. "What most do not realize, however, is that there is a distinct magic underlying the Lord of each house." Draco had attempted to keep his surprise from showing at this statement. "When the original twelve founders created a separate world for wizards, a raw magic was harnessed from the surrounding elements. Power was gathered from the flowing music of the wind, the deep currents of the water, the burning embers of the fire, and the very life of the land itself. This magic, this _power_, Draco, is the foundation for the world we live in. This same magic has run through the veins of every House Lord to inherit, and has been passed down innately to the rightful heir of each line for generations." Here, she had stopped again, and Draco could have sworn that, for a moment, she looked as though she would continue. Instead, she had studied him, with her emotions unusually unmasked, and a look on her face that he could not quite decipher, but had worried him nonetheless. She had shaken her head slightly then, and given him a slight smile, seeming to have come to some decision. She had stood slowly before coming over to where he sat unmoving, and brushed back loose silver-blond strands to lay a sweet kiss on his forehead, reminiscent of his early childhood. "That is enough for now," she had whispered. "Sleep well, my little Dragon." And with that, she had left his presence.  
  
Draco had not slept well at all on that night, or any night since, really. His father had never mentioned anything about the magical power his mother had spoken of that night, but he did not doubt the truth in her statement. From the way she had voiced her words so deliberately – and hesitantly – it seemed as though Narcissa had been trying to tell him something more, something hidden just beneath the surface of her story. She had been trying to prepare him for something...  
  
A sharp "Class dismissed!" broke Draco out of his reverie as he bottled up his potion to turn in for grading. He quickly gathered his things and made his way to the Great Hall after handing Snape his vial.  
  
"Where did you go off to Draco?" Pansy Parkinson's voice floated into his ear as he took a seat between her and Blaise Zabini. Vincent Crabbe grunted, and Gregory Goyle nodded in greeting as Draco settled himself across from them. His former 'bodyguards' no longer shadowed him constantly, mostly because they had not been accepted into many of the NEWT level classes he was expected to take. Although Goyle did manage to earn a decent number of OWLs, Crabbe proved himself to be utterly useless in the exams.  
  
"Whatever do you mean, Pansy?" Draco replied as he piled a sandwich and crisps onto his plate. "We had classes together all this morning, and I came here straight from the dungeons after Potions."  
  
"No. I meant where did you go off to during class, Draco? Your body may have been there, but your mind most certainly was not."  
  
Draco was starting to grow annoyed.  
  
"Pansy, where I go, whether physically or _astrally_, as you are proposing, is none of your concern," Draco bit back.  
  
A look of hurt flashed across her blue eyes, but it passed quickly, and she calmly raised a dark eyebrow and smirked.  
  
"Well, well, someone needs a nap," she drawled happily. "Did Windholm wear you out last night, Draco baby?"  
  
She smirked as Draco glared at her.  
  
"Hmm... that seems unlikely," Blaise interjected amusedly, "as my sources place her in the Astronomy Tower all last night. _Under_ Thomas Nott," he finished with obvious relish.  
  
Draco turned his glare full force onto Blaise. The report of Windholm's activities the previous night held no bearing on his mood – he and the fifth year had an understanding, and he had invested little to no emotion in the girl.  
  
"Well, she is ridden more often than a broomstick," Pansy retorted scathingly.  
  
"Too true," Blaise consented, nodding, before returning to his lunch. He smirked when he looked up to see his cousin, Delilah Windholm, sitting a few seats away, directing a potent death stare at them, obviously having heard the whole exchange.  
  
Blaise shrugged it off as Pansy gave the younger girl a decidedly evil grin. Draco gave Delilah a small smirk and turned away. Pansy absolutely despised Delilah, and Blaise was not too fond of the girl either. Why, then, did Draco insist on being involved with her? Thinking about it would get him nowhere, so he decided to clear his mind by simply taking in his surroundings.  
  
The Great Hall was filled with chattering students as they discussed their holiday plans. Draco himself would be staying at Hogwarts, as his mother wanted to take the time to get reacquainted with her second older sister, Andromeda, whom she had not properly spent time with since Andromeda's marriage to the muggle-born Ted Tonks. Both he and his mother knew that once Lucius returned – and he _would _– no such family reunion would be permitted. At least, not a happy family reunion...  
  
The atmosphere of the Great Hall was far too jovial for his liking, Draco decided. Nonetheless, he winked at a group of Hufflepuff fourth year girls who were eyeing him hungrily, and smirked as they began giggling and blushing madly. He let his eyes roam to the Ravenclaw table, and pasted on an appropriately seductive grin when he caught the eye of Cho Chang, whom he had had... _er-... relations_ with a few months prior. Draco's attention was diverted from Cho's inviting gaze when he saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.  
  
It was Weasley's little sister. She had just entered the Hall with her dandy boyfriend right beside her. Draco tried to remember his name, but the best he came up with was "Creaton," so he settled for referring to the dirty-blonde as Camera Boy, as he remembered seeing the boy carrying a camera in earlier years. The Weaslette and Camera Boy took their seats across from Longbottom, a few seats away from the Gryffindor trio. Draco was a bit surprised, the last time he had checked, the little Weasley had been a Potterette in training. Well, the last time he had actually been faced with her was in Umbridge's office last year, but he had been a bit too preoccupied with the flying bogies she had expertly sent his way to analyze the mannerisms of the girl. Draco slightly shuddered as he recalled that well-placed hex that allowed the captives of the Inquisitorial Squad to escape, and turned his attention back to the little red head. He wondered what had changed her, before mentally slapping himself. She was a Weasley, and therefore beneath him. Well, not beneath him in the literal sense. _Although_, Draco thought, as another one of his decidedly dangerously attractive smirks formed on his lips, _that would be an_ interesting_ experience._

_._

_._

Ginny picked at her lunch as she listened inattentively to Colin and Neville's discussion of a new band – _The Witch's Brew_ – that had been introduced over the Wizarding Wireless Network earlier that week. Colin seemed to like their music, while Neville did not appear too impressed. Ginny herself thought the band's music was decent, but did not find the topic enthralling enough to add her own opinion.  
  
She sighed and swept her eyes over the students in the Great Hall, and stopped as she caught Draco Malfoy looking at her with a smirk on his face that indicated things did not bode well for her. He gave her a slight nod of his head when he saw her looking back, then turned to speak with the dark-haired boy beside him, whom Ginny recognized as Blaise Zabini.  
  
She turned her eyes away from the sixth year Slytherins and returned her attention to the somewhat boring, but safe, discussion taking place beside her. _What was that about?_ she pondered, confused. _I haven't even spoken to Malfoy this year! What is that slime-ball playing at?  
_  
Ginny figured Malfoy was playing one of his Slytherin mind games with her, and she was in no mood. She had had enough of Slytherins messing with her mind to last her a lifetime, and decided Malfoy would not succeed in getting to her.  
  
The warning bell rang and Ginny gathered her belongings, as others around the Great Hall did the same, and headed out. She nodded in farewell to Neville as she and Colin separated from him in the halls, and managed to take a few steps before she was stopped abruptly by a solid, human wall.  
  
Ginny looked up into a pair of deeply golden eyes, and she let her lips fall into a suspiciously Slytherin smirk.  
  
"Watch where you're going, Weasley," came the cold drawl of Draco Malfoy from beside her. "Your filth has no place near us," he sneered.  
  
Ginny felt her face grow red, but before she could force Malfoy to choke on his own words – a feat she was sorely tempted to accomplish – a smooth voice cut in.  
  
"Now, now, Draco. Play nicely," Blaise Zabini smirked as he smoothed over the nonexistent wrinkles formed on his robes from his crash with Ginny, but his eyes held a glint of warning towards his house mate. Malfoy looked at his friend as though he had lost his mind, which he may as well have, if he was promoting good relations between Slytherins and Gryffindors. Blaise turned to Ginny and continued, "Dear Ginny, you really must learn not to throw yourself at me. I know it's hard to resist, but I simply do not feel the same way for you," he gave an exaggerated sigh.  
  
Ginny snorted slightly and raised a single eyebrow – remarkably similar to the popular Slytherin expression – before speaking. "Oh, but Blaise," she returned in a sugary sweet tone, "how am I to properly deflate your dangerously over-sized head, if I can't even launch a proper attack?"  
  
Blaise chuckled a bit and opened his mouth to respond when he was rudely cut off by the bellowing of an angry Weasel.  
  
"GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER!" the senior Weasley demanded loudly, as he stomped over to the group, with Harry and Hermione following quickly at his heels.  
  
Ron came to stand between Ginny and the sixth year Slytherins, poised at the ready, like a dog waiting to attack. His face was quickly turning an unattractive shade of red. Harry and Hermione took their positions on either side of him, ready to face the "evil" Slytherins.  
  
"Well, it didn't take long for your nannies to arrive, now did it, Baby Weasley?" Malfoy drawled smugly. Ginny felt her face grow hot with anger once more. "As fascinating as it is to watch the commoners gather around their _helpless_," Ginny bristled as he cast a quick glance her way, "I for one have a class to attend."  
  
With that, he swept past them, with Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini a step behind him, leaving the trio to wonder what had just happened and why Draco Malfoy was walking away without insulting them. Blaise turned once to give Ginny a look that Colin could not quite decipher, before the look and the Slytherins were gone. Students who had gathered at Ron's yells began to disperse, seeing as any further altercation at this time was unlikely due to the unexpectedly early exit of the Slytherins.  
  
It took Ron less time than Ginny estimated to remember his anger amidst the confusion caused by Slytherins not acting openly hostile. "Ginny, what do you think you were doing talking to those Slytherins? They're evil!"  
  
Ginny grimaced as some of his spit sprayed her face during his tirade. She took a deep breath to calm herself – and to keep herself from physically harming her thick-headed brother with a well-placed hex.  
  
"Ron, we just bumped into each other on the way to class. You know, that place where you should be heading right now," she said in as patient a tone as she could muster. "In _that_ direction," she finished as she gestured vaguely toward where the trio had arrived from.  
  
"Ginny," the ever-sensible Hermione cut in, "we were just worried," she continued in her patient, motherly voice. "The Slytherins are dangerous, and we just wanted to make sure you were safe. There are things you don't know, so please listen when we give you advice," she finished sanctimoniously.  
  
"She's right, Ginny." Harry just had to put in his two knuts worth.  
  
Ginny grit her teeth together in an attempt to keep from screaming. _How dare they preach to her and try to dictate her life? How dare they act as though her ignorance in matters concerning the Order was of her own volition?_ Colin could see the rage growing behind Ginny's honey eyes, and laid a gentle hand on her arm. She stiffened, and her gaze became cool once more, though her cheeks were still flushed a healthy pink. She nodded slightly to Colin in gratitude.  
  
"Ginny," Hermione continued speaking in what she must have thought was a comforting tone – Ginny simply found it irritating. "Ginny, I know that you are upset with us, but we really do have your best interest at heart. If we could tell you what was going on, we would." The fact that the older girl had focused her vision at some point above Ginny's head was not helping her case. "But just understand that when we say that those Slytherins are not to be trusted, and to stay away from them, we know what we are talking about."  
  
Harry nodded in agreement while Ron blurted out "Just stay away from them, Ginny!"  
  
Ginny calmly raised an eyebrow, and only her clenched jaw and fiery eyes revealed to Colin how upset she was. Then, without uttering a word, she swiftly turned on her heel and began to walk towards her next class, gesturing for Colin to follow her. The trio simply stood dumbfounded for a moment, having been left abruptly for the second time in a span of mere minutes, before Hermione realized the time and hurried the boys off to their own class.

.

.

Later that evening, Ginny was still silently fuming as she sat on the same window sill she had occupied just that morning. And she knew why she was so upset. She felt _betrayed_. That horrid feeling that overwhelmed her whenever she thought of her earlier days with Tom Riddle was again coursing through her.  
  
Harry she had learned not to expect much support from in her endeavors to aid the fight against the Dark. _Hades_, he could barely remember that she had been possessed by the 16-year-old Voldemort for nearly a year. But she could not begrudge him too much, as he did have many of his own issues to deal with.  
  
Ron she stopped depending on when it became clear that he could not see that she was no longer a naïve 11-year-old girl. He, like all of her other brothers, saw her as the baby, the little girl to be protected. Her parents' refusal to allow her involvement in anything involving Order business only promoted their beliefs.  
  
No, the betrayal came mostly from Hermione, who, until the previous summer, had been one of Ginny's best friends. The two girls had grown close during Hermione's stay with the Weasleys during the Quidditch World Cup. Sharing a room had turned out to be an enjoyable experience for both girls. Ginny had found in Hermione a kind of big sister and confidant, while Hermione had found in Ginny female companionship that was not limited to talk of hair, make-up, clothes, and boys – though the two girls definitely had touched on these topics. Hermione had been the first to learn of Ginny's decision to give up on Harry, of her meeting Michael Corner at the Yule Ball, and then finally Michael asking her out near the end of her third year. Ginny in turn had listened to Hermione speak of her friendship with Victor Krum and a passing crush she had had on a muggle boy who lived in her neighborhood.  
  
Ginny had known, in the back of her mind, that Ron and Harry would always come first for Hermione, but she had not thought that the older girl would side with the boys in treating her like a five-year-old. Hermione knew that Ginny despised being treated as the baby, needing to be protected. While Ginny had never truly opened up to Hermione regarding her first year, and its lasting effects on her psyche, Hermione had been observant enough to learn that the experience had affected Ginny greatly. The girls had shared a respectful, genial relationship until about mid- summer, when Ginny had once again found herself on the outside looking in.  
  
On the summer evening when Fred and George and the trio had joined the rest of her family – excepting Percy who was still being a Ministry-arse-kissing git – and various Order members, for the first time in an official meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, Ginny had sat on her bed in the room she shared with Hermione at Number 12 Grimmauld Place and had waited impatiently for her friend to return. When Hermione had finally come up to bed, she had avoided Ginny's questions and would not look the younger girl in the eye. Ginny had continued to try to coax some information out of Hermione, but had ceased her persistence when the older girl's silence made it clear that Ginny was not to be entrusted with such knowledge. Over the next few weeks, as Hermione had become more involved in Order business with Harry and Ron, the girls had drifted apart, and their friendship had still not recovered.  
  
Ginny continued to look out of the window, onto the frozen surface of the lake, until she heard her roommates return from dinner. With a sigh, she lifted herself off of the sill, gathered her Arithmancy books, along with some parchment and quills, and made her way down through the common room and out of the portrait hole.

.

.

Draco Malfoy stiffened in his seat in the library as his eagle owl landed on the table in front of him, a scroll attached to its left talon. He was not expecting any post, so the arrival of this letter unnerved him. Draco carefully relieved his owl of its delivery, and sent the noble bird to the owlery for some food, water, and rest. Draco closed his books and put away the Potions essay he had been working on – he would need to read the letter in a more private setting than the library.  
  
As Draco exited he saw the little Weasley girl walking down the hallway towards his location. He noticed her gaze grow wary as she spotted him, and he smirked. No matter Blaise's odd behavior around the girl, she was a Weasley, and that fact would always define his view of her. She carefully approached the entrance to the library, where he stood watching her. He stepped aside to allow her passage, giving a deep mocking bow and a sweep of his hand. He almost chuckled aloud as she hurriedly brushed past him. Draco straightened, and watched her enter the library with a glint of amusement in his silver eyes – he loved the power he could hold over others. His self-satisfaction was proven to be too early enjoyed as the little weasel turned to speak to him from just within the confines of the library.  
  
"You know," she started in a falsely thoughtful tone, as she let her eyes fall squarely with his, "I never pegged you as a gentleman, Malfoy." Draco simply raised an eyebrow. "Well then, where _are_ my manners?" she questioned with a sickeningly sweet smile. Before Draco could counter with an undoubtedly scathing remark, she lightly lifted the sides of her robes with her hands, and sank into a surprisingly graceful curtsy. Whatever cutting insult had been on his lips was lost as Draco admired her lean form, as her usually awkward limbs straightened delicately. Her lips curved – _Is that a smirk?_ Draco thought – as she said "Good evening, Ferret Prince." And then she turned and disappeared into the room before he could even form a glare.  
  
Draco's blood boiled at her reference to the unfortunate incident that took place in his fourth year – it was still a sensitive subject for him. He turned and angrily strode away from the library doorway, cursing the "little red-haired bint" all the way back to the Slytherin common room.  
  
He snarled the password – "Veritas" – and entered the green and silver adorned dungeon. He nodded curtly in greeting to a group of 7th years, before heading up the stairwell to the sixth year dorms. Unfortunately, most of his roommates were present.  
  
"Crabbe, Goyle, get out," he commanded.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle did not look happy about this order, but they complied, Crabbe grumbling all the way.  
  
Draco then turned to look at Blaise. "I received a letter," was all he said. Blaise nodded, closed the book he had been reading, and headed out of the room.  
  
Once the door had been closed, and Draco had placed a strong locking charm on it, he turned to the letter. He recognized the seal as his mother's, before unrolling the parchment. As he slowly read through her message, Draco felt a numbness permeate his every pore. By the time he had finished, he was a sickly pale. He never knew how long he sat there, digesting what his mother had revealed to him.  
  
He was brought out of his musings by a knock on the door. Draco quickly encoded the letter and hid it with a spell that would allow only his eyes to find it again. He then lay back on his bed, a cool, unemotional mask firmly in place. He whispered the spell to unlock the door and waited for the visitor to enter, for he knew none of his dorm mates would return until he signaled for it.  
  
"Draco, darling," came the seductive voice of fifth year Delilah Windholm. "I saw all of your roommates were occupied in the common room, so I thought you may want to spend some time with me," she finished with a come-hither look.  
  
Draco shook his head at Delilah's self-involvement. He took a moment to take in her physical beauty – from her long mahogany locks, her hazel eyes and pouty lips, to her curvaceous young body. "What are you proposing?" he drawled.  
  
Gods knew he needed to do _something_ to get his mind off of the contents of that letter.  
  
Delilah smirked and began to unbutton her blouse. When she finished slipping off her top, she unhooked her skirt and slid it slowly down her long legs. She walked over to where Draco lay watching her, her hips swinging hypnotically, and blanketed her body across his. Draco could only dimly recall his earlier questioning of his involvement with her. _Ah,_ he thought hazily, _how could I forget the sex?_ That was the last conscious thought to cross his mind for the next few hours.

.

.

Ginny gave a little sigh of relief as she closed her Arithmancy book, and began rolling up the finished scroll she had let dry for a few minutes. After her encounter with Malfoy upon reaching the library, she had gone directly to one of the tables in the very back, near the Restricted Section. She had set to work immediately, not allowing her thoughts to linger on the silver-eyed blonde whom she knew made the hearts of more than half the school's female population flutter. Ginny was defiantly not one of those girls. Or so she told herself. Repeatedly.  
  
Luna had found Ginny in her little hideaway about an hour into her Arithmancy essay, and had joined her friend at the table.  
  
"So do you have anything special planned for tomorrow?" Luna asked once she saw Ginny's things had been put away. Luna herself had finished her work a few minutes before, and was now flipping through the latest issue of _The Quibbler_.  
  
Ginny furrowed her brow in confusion at the question.  
  
Luna, seeing this, gave an indignant huff. "You can't really have forgotten, Ginny?" She implored. But the look on Ginny's face must have told her she had, and Luna shook her head and tutted. "Ginny, the celebration of the sixteenth year is a very important event. Some of the old clans hiding in the highlands of Scotland prepare a ritual fire, and dance for the goddess of the moon on such an occasion." She continued in all seriousness.  
  
Despite Luna's odd explanation, Ginny realized what her friend was referring to. Her eyes grew wide. "I – I can't believe I forgot," she gasped. _How could she forget?_ After all of her mental tirades regarding her family and the Dream Team treating her like a baby, and she _forgets her sixteenth birthday?_ Well, she admitted to herself, she really did not forget it entirely – she knew the date was coming up, but did not realize how close it really was. Piles of homework and frustrations regarding the ongoing war served as heavy distractions. "I really don't have any special plans," she recovered quickly, answering the Ravenclaw's earlier question.  
  
Luna nodded as though she completely understood – and for all Ginny knew, she may – before setting down _The Quibbler_ and leaning over the table towards her friend as though to share a secret. "Well, we must participate in the proper festivities. Your new year of life must begin in celebration for the coming year to be prosperous," she related wisely.  
  
Ginny just nodded with a small smile on her face. "That would be lovely, Luna. We'll see what Colin and Neville are up to, and then do something just smashing, alright?"  
  
Luna returned her smile and began to gather her things. Ginny pushed away from the table and lifted her book bag, where she had placed her supplies in a neat pile earlier. The girls walked in a companionable silence out of the library, and through the halls, until it was necessary to separate to reach their common rooms.  
  
"Goodnight, Ginny," Luna said, her voice sounding tired.  
  
"'Night, Luna. I'll see you in the morning," Ginny returned just as tiredly, before heading off towards Gryffindor Tower. Twenty-five minutes later found the fifth year Gryffindor snuggled under the covers of her thick blanket, and waiting for Morpheus, no matter how unkind, to arrive.

* * *

"With great power comes great responsibility." -- Spiderman, The Movie  
  
NOTE: Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know what you think. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Title:** Veritas Amo

**Author:** Rosa di Corte

**Category:** Romance/Mystery

**Pairing:** Draco/Ginny, Ginny/Draco

**Summary:** Amidst the Second War, in a changing world, two people – Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy – find themselves; and each other... D/G

**Spoilers:** Books 1-5; Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them; Quidditch Through the Ages

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, and Warner Bros., among others. Only the plot and any unfamiliar characters are mine.

* * *

**CHAPTER 2  
**  
The next morning found an exhausted Ginny, bundled up in her threadbare robes and Charlie's old cloak, sitting by the lake. Her warming charm had long since worn off, and – as she was too distracted to recast the charm – her small body was curled into itself to protect her from the cold. Her eyes gazed forward, unseeingly, as she gathered her strength to return to the castle for breakfast.  
  
It had been a bad night.  
  
Since her first year, the nightmares had come frequently. Visions of Tom, the Chamber, and a giant predatory snake would flash behind her eyes. She could feel the chilling Chamber floor and hear his sadistic laughter. She never knew when the worst of these mental attacks would strike. Although dreamtime was often her enemy, she still longed for the oblivion of deep, rejuvenating slumber. Sleep, she found, however, was no longer the relaxing escape it had once been.  
  
But last night had been different. She did not dream of handsome Tom, or the Chamber. No, she distinctly remembered red, glowing slit eyes and a snake-like face.  
  
_Voldemort.  
_  
She shivered just thinking the name.  
  
Voldemort had been a main feature of the nightmares plaguing her in the hours before dawn. She did not remember much, but she could distinctly remember his hideous face. At moments, a few flashes would unexpectedly escape from the deepest recesses of her mind, where her subconscious buried images too traumatic to face. The most powerful of these impressions was of a young woman, who looked to be about Ginny's age. Her face never cleared into focus, but her dark hair could be seen, flowing like a river down her back. There was danger surrounding her – that much Ginny could sense. And she was somehow connected to Voldemort. But Ginny did not know who she was, or how she was to help the poor girl.  
  
_Hades_, she didn't even know if the girl was _real_.  
  
Ginny shook off her thoughts and stood, determined to enjoy the day, despite the previous night's trials. As she turned to head to breakfast, she saw that she was not alone.  
  
"You do realize that it is below freezing temperatures out here, do you not?" came a silky drawl. "And while I do share your appreciation for these surroundings," Blaise Zabini continued, his eyes unfocusedly directed at the water's surface behind her, "I will never understand your ability to ignore the fact that we are in the dead of winter." He shook his head slightly to emphasize his confusion as he turned his attention to the red head before him.  
  
Ginny gave him a small smile as she made her way to where he had been standing, near the base of an ancient willow. She did not know how long he had been there – he was very adept at escaping notice for some reason. But she did not really care to determine when he had arrived. What was important was that he was there now.  
  
"No 'Good Morning,' _Sorellina_?" he asked, his voice taking on a teasing lilt. She never knew what that name meant, only that, when coming from him, it was an affectionate term.  
  
"Is it 'good?'" she asked jokingly, though her words were laced with seriousness.  
  
"Of course it is," he responded, surprisingly willfully. He reached a hand into the left pocket of his thick woolen cloak, before revealing to her a small, wrapped package. "Happy Birthday, Little One," he whispered, a small, yet genuine smile gracing his lips.  
  
Ginny simply looked at the parcel and tried to comprehend how it had come to this. How had she come to be standing here with an older Slytherin boy – whose resemblance to Tom Riddle could at times be unnerving – yet still feel utterly safe and... _content_?  
  
She had not always been close with Blaise Zabini. During her first four years at Hogwarts, she had barely known of his existence. She had caught glimpses of him, of course, but tended to dismiss him almost immediately, so as not to dwell on how much his physical appearance reminded her of another Slytherin she had once known. Blaise himself had not been one to draw attention. In his earlier years at the castle, he preferred to focus on schoolwork and kept his alliances within his House quiet. So their meeting in Diagon Alley the previous summer, as well as the easy companionship they had since developed, was all very unexpected.

.

.  
  
It had been two weeks before the start of term, and Ginny had been going out of her mind cooped up in Grimmauld Place with nothing to distract her from the blatant exclusion she was facing. So when Nymphadora Tonks offered to take her shopping for school supplies, she was more than willing to leave the dark manor for even a few hours. It was to be a short trip, as the Second War had started, and there was constant worry of Death Eater attacks. The trio could not make the trip for some reason or another – a fact for which Ginny was grateful. So it was with the three sixth years' school lists that Tonks and Ginny flooed out of the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters – after assuring Molly Weasley repeatedly that Ginny would be safe, and that Tonks, as an auror, could provide adequate protection – and arrived in a sooty pile on the floor of the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
After gathering themselves up and cleaning off as much soot as would cooperate, the two had made their way to Gringotts, to collect galleons, sickles, and knuts from various vaults for their purchases. Ginny stopped at both her parents' vault, as well as Fred and George's, and made the appropriate withdrawals from each. Her twin brothers' joke shop had been quite successful, and the boys had made enough money for Ron and Ginny to have new school books for the coming year, although they would still have to make do with their old robes.  
  
After Gringotts, the stops had come and gone too quickly for Ginny's liking: Flourish and Blotts for schoolbooks; the Apothecary to restock Potions ingredients; the Owl Emporium for treats for Hedwig and Pigwidgeon; Quality Quidditch Supplies for Ginny's new broom, courtesy of her parents – and, reluctantly, Fred and George – for her prefect award; the last stop had been for quills and parchment.  
  
Ginny had been lingering by some eagle feather quills, pretending to be engrossed in comparing the different brands – anything to prolong her time outside of that stifling house – when Tonks came up beside her and told her to stay there while she ran a quick errand. Ginny watched the older girl's bright purple hair disappear toward where the Post Owls were kept before continuing to wander through the shelves. It was down one of the aisles in the far reaches of the store that Ginny found herself facing an old enemy – a black leather diary. The book was so similar to Riddle's that, for a moment, her rationality left her. It was at that precise moment that Blaise Zabini had happened across the young Gryffindor, only to spout some typically scathing Slytherin remark upon noticing her presence.  
  
Ginny, whose nerves had already been addled by the confrontation with a reminder of her horrid experience first year, had not been ready to face a Tom-look-alike. When she looked up to face the owner of the smoothly cruel voice, she felt an immense terror overtake her. Before she could let out so much as a squeak, however, the Slytherin boy had taken a step back away from her, his eyes locked with hers, his shock at what was revealed in her eyes showing plainly. This action snapped her out of her state of alarm, and she started to calm, turning away from the dark-haired boy without comment after realizing he was not the ghost of Tom Riddle. Zabini stood for a few more moments, studying her carefully, before swiftly turning on his heel and exiting the store. When Tonks returned less than five minutes later, Ginny had already shoved the encounter to the back of her mind, and was dreading returning to the Black House.  
  
If it had ended there, if he had not sought her company on the Hogwarts Express after her first Prefects' meeting, she could have filed the earlier encounter as an oddity and continued on her Gryffindoric path. But he did, and she couldn't.  
  
September the first this past year had begun as the day usually did among Weasleys – in chaos. By the time Ginny and the trio had arrived at King's Cross, it was just about time for the train to leave. Harry had gone to find a compartment for them, while she and Ron and Hermione had headed to the Prefects' compartment. After two long hours – and an extra half hour for the new fifth year prefects – Ginny made her way down the train in search of Luna, Colin, and Neville.  
  
She had been nearing the back when an arm grabbed her and pulled her into an empty compartment.  
  
"Little Gryffs shouldn't travel all alone in enemy territory," came the same drawling voice that had assaulted her during her visit to Diagon Alley. Blaise Zabini released his hold on her arm as he languidly set himself on one of the benches inside the compartment. Ginny rubbed her arm slightly – which was not really hurt at all, as he had been very gentle in grabbing her – and remained by the doorway, a wary expression on her face. "Please, do have a seat," he gestured to the bench across from him. When she did not make to move, he leaned forward in his seat and whispered conspiratorially, "I promise not to bare my fangs as long as you keep your claws retracted."  
  
Despite herself, Ginny was intrigued.  
  
Keeping her eyes on his form, she slowly made her way to the bench across from the Slytherin boy, and sat down. "What is this all about, Zabini?" she asked in a tone that she hoped sounded much more confident than she really felt. "I don't see what business you could possibly have with a Weasley," she continued, with decisively derisive note to her voice now.  
  
"Ah, but you are not just a Weasley," he replied, and she could see the glint of amusement in his eyes. "You are _Ginevra _Weasley." She forced her features to remain unmoved by his comments, although she was slightly curious as to how he had known her first name. He leaned back in his seat, studying her amateurly-composed mask. "You should not underestimate the value of your company," he finally stated.  
  
She searched his face for any sarcasm or mocking, but could find none. Still, she could not decipher what it was that she did see in his eyes. "Very, well, then," she decided to play along. "What can I do for you, Zabini?"  
  
"Please, Ginevra, call me Blaise," he said, seeming satisfied with her willingness to cooperate with his 'game.' "I insist," he cut in when he saw her start to object.  
  
Ginny sighed inwardly – she did not trust this boy, and she knew that he had to be up to something. He was a _Slytherin_.  
  
And she hated being called Ginevra.  
  
"How about a compromise," she proposed. "I will call you Blaise, if you call me Ginny."  
  
"Alright... _Ginny_," he gave a small smirk, nodding once. Ginny feared for a moment that she may have made a terrible mistake. "So," he continued nonchalantly, "tell me, what do you do when you aren't following Potter and his sidekicks around like a shadow?" And that confirmed it.  
  
Ginny stood, shaking her head at the sheer absurdity of the situation – not to mention her idiocy in thinking a Slytherin could be anything but cruel – and made her way to the door. Escape, however, was not an option, as the older boy had moved quickly to stand firmly in front of the doorway. Her wand was in her robe pocket, but she hesitated to draw it against him.  
  
"Now, now, _Ginny_," came his smooth drawl, "I only wanted to talk." She simply glared at him. "I apologize for my comment, it was uncalled for," he seemed to slightly regret his little barb. "However, I really don't know much about you besides the fact that you are a fifth year Gryffindor, a Weasley, and one of _Potter's_ little hanger-ons," he made 'Potter' sound like some vile creature. Ginny was unmoved. He relaxed his position a bit, seeming to realize by the look on her face that this tactic would not get him what he wanted. After a few moments of consideration, he stepped aside. As she made to pass by him, he lightly laid a hand on her arm, making her pause. "I have no desire to harm you or yours, Weasley," he stated seriously. "You simply..." he paused, searching for the correct term, "_intrigued_ me at our meeting in Diagon Alley." He moved back into the compartment, as she continued to stand at the doorway, her back facing him. "I assure you that not all Slytherins are the evil-doers you have imagined. We are not all Death Eaters. We do not all bow and kiss the hems of some twisted _creature_," he spat, passion clearly rising within him. Ginny's back grew rigid, but she still did not turn to face him. He sighed loudly then, seeming to lose some hope. "I simply wanted to know," he said quietly, "what I could have possibly done to trigger that look of terror from you that afternoon."  
  
Ginny heard him slump into his seat and, after pausing for only a moment, continued her exit. It took her less than ten minutes to locate Luna and Colin – Neville was later found to have been sitting with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas – and she hid herself with her friends for the rest of the train journey. Zabini's words, however, were never far from her mind.  
  
It had been two weeks into the school year when she was faced with the dark- haired Slytherin again. After a particularly messy Potions class with Snape, Ginny and Colin were cleaning up their work station – after an unexpectedly early dismissal from the Potions professor – when Draco Malfoy swept into the room imperiously, Blaise Zabini stepping inside behind him. While Malfoy made his way straight to Snape – most likely to discuss something to do with the Slytherin quidditch team, of which he was captain – Blaise stood near the doorway, taking in the classroom. He caught Ginny's eye, before she quickly looked away, blushing.  
  
Ginny had spent a lot of time considering what the elder boy had said, and had come to the conclusion that he was right: Not all Slytherins were Death Eaters. _Just like not all Death Eaters were Slytherins_, she thought wryly, recalling a particular rat by the name of Pettigrew. She tried hard not to be prejudicial, not to let her Gryffindoric mentality judge before an adequate evaluation had been performed. She liked to think she was open- minded, and, while not as far gone as Hermione with S.P.E.W., she tried not to think of any beings as inferior.  
  
But the Slytherins tended to make things so difficult. They formed a united front to the other three houses, constructed with harsh words, cruel humor, and the more-than-occasional well-placed hex. But, she admitted, this was most likely linked to the united front the other three houses tended to form against them. She had considered what it would be like to be a Slytherin – after a short scare with the sorting hat in her first year, the idea had been planted in her head – and she decided that perhaps the Slytherins acted as they did because of the perception the other houses had already formed of them. After carefully looking over the situation, Ginny found that neither the Slytherins, nor the other houses, could be identified as the cause of the hostilities. But they all certainly perpetuated it: the correlation between the Slytherins' nastiness towards the other houses, and those houses' nastiness toward Slytherins was real. She had come to the conclusion that it was a vicious cycle – one she refused to be a part of.  
  
"Colin, do you think you can take care of the rest of this?" she asked quietly, sparing a quick glance back at Zabini. "There is something I need to take care of," she finished, looking her friend in the eye.  
  
Colin, who had been privy to Ginny's predicament with the Slytherin – due to a fair amount of coaxing and cajoling on his part – nodded swiftly and gave her a small smile. "Sure, go on. I'll catch up with you in Transfiguration," he said, just as quietly, returning immediately to the task of cleaning up.  
  
Ginny quickly gathered her things, cast a quick glance around the room – noting that Snape and Malfoy were still deep in discussion, and most of her classmates had already finished and left – and headed towards the doorway. She paused when she reached Zabini's position, and looked up at him.  
  
"I thought about what you said." She almost whispered the admission. "I think maybe you were right... maybe we could talk some time." Upon seeing no visible reaction from him, she quickly covered, "That is, if you _want_ to. We don't have to," she knew she was beginning to babble. "Actually, forget about this," she decided, making to walk away from the still un-moved boy.  
  
A hand on her elbow put a stop to her exit. She looked up to see Zabini, looking at her with what was clearly amusement in his eyes. After quickly glimpsing at the front of the room to ensure that Snape and Malfoy were occupied, he led her outside of the class room, and stopped a few feet away from the dungeon entrance.  
  
"There is no Potions class next period," he responded to her unasked question of why he had stopped them in the middle of a well-traveled hallway. "And the other Slytherins should all be in class," he provided, when she still looked uneasy. Ginny nodded slowly, and waited for him to continue. He took a few moments, and then smirked. "So you're willing to give a big, bad Slytherin a chance, eh?"  
  
Ginny groaned, frustrated, and beginning to reconsider her decision.  
  
"No, no. Don't look like that. I was simply teasing," he cut in on her decision-making review process. "You really should work on your sense of humor," he shook his head, as though it was a true tragedy that she could not comprehend his joke.  
  
"I grew up with Fred and George as brothers, I think my sense of humor is as honed as it's going to get," she returned dryly.  
  
"Touche," he conceded. "I remember the Weasley twins. That swamp of theirs was truly brilliant," he complimented sincerely. "That hag Umbridge was atrocious. It was quite... _satisfying_ to see her toad face turn all red like that," he chuckled slightly.  
  
Ginny looked at him, surprised with the revelation that not all of the Slytherins supported that wretched witch. But when she thought about it, she could not recall seeing Zabini anywhere around the horrid woman, or her equally horrid Inquisitorial Squad, last year. "Yes, well, you should have seen her after the centaurs had finished with her. The slightest noise sounding like hoof beats, and she would jump for cover," Ginny giggled slightly at the memory of Umbridge in the Hospital Wing at the end of last term.  
  
Laughter – true laughter – bubbled up from the older boy. Ginny simply stared at him in awe. "Ah," he managed to calm after only a few unruly moments, though he still held his side with one hand. "I must admit, I would have paid galleons to see that," he smiled, shaking his head slightly.  
  
Ginny could do nothing but smile back.  
  
"So," he continued, when she failed to supply conversation, "perhaps we could meet again, when we have more than five minutes to hold a discussion," he pointed to the wizard's watch on his left wrist. "As it is, I must be collecting Draco and making my way to Arithmancy."  
  
Ginny scrunched her nose up a bit at the mention of the Ferret, but she nodded to his suggestion. "Colin should be coming out at any moment," she agreed, "and we need to hurry or we'll be late for Transfiguration." As if on cue – which Ginny decided was probably true, as she knew Colin had a pair of her brothers' extendable ears – Colin came out of the Potions room, books in hand.  
  
Ginny smiled at him and waved him over when she saw him pause a few feet away from the pair. "Colin, this is Za-- ... _Blaise_," she corrected at the Slytherin's raised eyebrow. "Blaise this is Colin," she finished making the introductions.  
  
"Hello," Colin gave a short nod of his head in Blaise's direction.  
  
Blaise returned the nod, and the greeting, before facing Ginny again. "Well, Ginny, perhaps I will be seeing more of you?" he questioned. At Ginny's nod in affirmation, he smirked and said, "Good. Then I had better get Draco and head to class."  
  
"Malfoy and Snape seemed about finished with whatever they were discussing when I left," Colin supplied helpfully.  
  
Blaise turned to Colin, and Ginny could not for the life of her read the look in his eyes. "Thank you," he said with a smirk as Colin's face took on a definite pink tint. After giving them each a nod of the head in farewell, he disappeared into Snape's classroom, and Colin and Ginny headed up to the Transfiguration classroom.  
  
After that, Ginny and Blaise had managed to come across each other all around the campus. While the weather was still friendly, their meeting place of choice was by the lake. Later they would meet in the Astronomy Tower, or the Room of Requirement. Sometimes Colin would join them, but more often it was just the two of them. Ron, Harry, and Hermione were so wrapped up in whatever Order business they were working on that they barely noticed her absence. She and Blaise would sit for hours and discuss almost anything and everything. They talked about their classes, their interests, their goals for the future. They exchanged philosophies and opinions. Their personalities, they found, were quite compatible. The topics they steered clear of were their families, their houses, and the ongoing war with Voldemort – not because they were on opposing sides, but because neither one found those topics to be enjoyable.  
  
They had become great friends – a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, a close friend of Harry Potter's (loosely speaking) and a close ally of Draco Malfoy's. But nothing romantic grew between the two. And, really, that was how they both wanted it.

.

.  
  
As she looked at him now, swathed in a thick cloak to keep away the December cold, Ginny saw what it was the other girls giggled about when his name was mentioned. He stood tall, at a good 6'4" at least, with broad shoulders. His dark hair and golden eyes were complemented by the healthy olive glow of his skin. His recent participation as keeper for the Slytherin quidditch team only toned his already well-formed muscles. He really was quite handsome, she admitted to herself. Beautiful, really, but not to the angelic perfection that Draco Malfoy emanated. Malfoy, she had learned earlier, was on old childhood companion of Blaise's, but it was not until recently that their relationship was shown outside of the confines of the Slytherin common room. His friendship, or alliance – _Did Slytherins have friendships?_ – with the Slytherin Prince only heightened his own reputation: Hogwarts girls found him just as irresistible as his fair- headed housemate – and together they were an eye-catching pair – while Hogwarts boys admired, feared, and loathed him.  
  
Ginny slowly reached out to accept the gift he so fondly presented. Her fingers were a bit numb, even within the confines of her thick gloves, so her various attempts at unwrapping the parcel proved fruitless. Blaise chuckled a bit as Ginny failed for the fourth time to undo the green and silver – _How _Slytherin, she thought sarcastically – trimmings.  
  
"Wizards have wands for a reason, you know?" he teased, truly enjoying her predicament.  
  
Ginny let out a small huff, retrieved her wand from her cloak pocket, and recited the proper spell to banish the difficult wrapping. She put her wand away, and closely examined the carved oak box that sat on her hand. There seemed to be the lettering of a language she could not identify on the top of the box, and the sides were adorned with carvings of beautiful mermaids.  
  
She looked up to Blaise, who shrugged slightly. "I know how you're fascinated with the water," he stated simply._ I didn't tell him that_, vaguely ran through her mind. Ginny felt the burning of tears behind her eyes as she smiled back at him – no one in her family had ever picked up on her love for the water, but this boy had in _four months_. "Well," he said, seeming to grow uncomfortable with the wetness that was surely showing in her eyes, "go on. Open it," he urged.  
  
"Open it?" Ginny asked incredulously. "You mean there's more?"  
  
Blaise scoffed lightly. "Of course there's more! Did you think I would only give you a jewelry box for your birthday, with no jewelry inside of it?" He smirked that smirk that Slytherins seem to have been born with.  
  
With an excited little squeal that drew a genuine laugh from the older boy, Ginny lifted the top of the jewelry box. The inside was lined with royal blue velvet, and nestled in the center of the smooth fabric was a beautiful necklace. Ginny slowly lifted the precious metal by the clasp, and studied the unique design of the pendant. It was a tear-drop shape, with a smooth, multi-toned surface. It almost looked as though there was liquid within the stone, from the way the light hit it. Ginny had never seen anything like it before. The chain and clasp were made of cool platinum, and she noticed a small engraving where the teardrop met the metal. It was of two interconnected spirals, with clockwise rotations from their centers.  
  
Ginny looked up from the gift to find Blaise eyeing her nervously. She almost laughed aloud at seeing the usually-composed Slytherin unsure of himself. "I love it," she smiled. She stepped forward and gave him a big Weasley hug, which he returned after having stiffened for a few moments from surprise at the gesture. "Thank you so much, Blaise. It's beautiful!" she gushed happily, finally releasing her hold on him.  
  
He pinked a bit, and shrugged modestly. "It's nothing much, I just wanted you to have it, '_Lina_," he said, using the shortened form of his nickname for her. She was sure she looked as though she were ready to burst into happy tears when he quickly suggested that he help her put it on. She handed him the necklace in consent, and turned, lifting her long red hair off of her neck so he could work the clasp with little trouble. She felt the cool metal of the chain fall against her skin as he finished, but surprisingly, the pendant was actually quite warm. She felt a peacefulness overcome her as she turned to face her friend.  
  
"Really, Blaise, thank you." She looked down and fingered the pendant. Blaise chuckled and lifted her chin with an index finger.  
  
"Don't you think its time we get out of this gods-forsaken cold and go in for some breakfast?" he half pleaded, gripping his cloak tighter around him. Ginny laughed lightly and grabbed his arm as they made their way back to the castle. Upon reaching the doors, they both seemed to have come to the realization that the Great Hall would be quite full at this time. So as not to start any arguments between their houses, Blaise insisted that Ginny enter the hall first, while he followed minutes later.

.

.  
  
"Where have you been, Blaise?" Draco Malfoy was not in a good mood this morning, and he was determined that the rest of Slytherin would suffer because of it.  
  
Blaise rolled his eyes slightly as he took a seat beside the blond boy. He nodded in greeting to Pansy, who was positioned on Draco's other side, before replying. "I had business to take care of," he said curtly, making it clear that Draco should watch his tone and his comments.  
  
Draco, however, was in no mood to play well with others today. "_Business?_ With whom, the little Weasley bint?" He was still smarting over their interaction last night outside of the library.  
  
Blaise's eyes grew dark and his voice was decidedly frigid when he replied. "What I do with my own time, and who I spend that time with are none of your concern, Malfoy," he bit out.  
  
Draco looked at his old friend and realized he had better start cooperating. Blaise may have a tendency to seem quiet and book smart, but he could be vicious if made an enemy. "Right," he nodded, the closest to an apology as Draco Malfoy ever came. "It was a long night, you know," he said in what was to pass as justification, as he gave a weak smirk.  
  
"Oh?" Blaise questioned, playing along. He had known Draco far too long not to be able to see through that expression. His eyes were weary, and he did not exude the immaculateness that he usually possessed. His hair was a bit ruffled, and Blaise noted that the area around his eyes was a bit darker than the rest of his skin. He remembered Draco receiving a letter last night. "Anything interesting happen?" he drawled, but Draco could see the serious query in Blaise's eyes.  
  
Draco shrugged slightly, and far more elegantly than a teenage boy should be capable of. "The usual," he responded indifferently, indicating that he did not wish to discuss what was bothering him at this time. Blaise nodded thoughtfully and returned to selecting his breakfast, leaving Draco to deal with his troubled thoughts on his own for now.  
  
It truly had been a long night for the fair-haired Slytherin. After receiving the letter from his mother, not even Delilah's ministrations could take his mind off of his situation for more than a few hours. After the younger girl had returned to her own room the night before, Draco had signaled to his roommates that they could return upstairs, before putting on his robe and a cloak and heading out of the common room. He wandered around most of the night, being careful not to get caught by Filch and Mrs. Norris, or any of the professors. He had finally found himself in the Astronomy Tower in the early hours of the morning, and watched the sunrise from the tallest tower of Hogwarts. He had realized he was sharing the view when he glanced down by the lake, and saw a black bundle with unmistakably long red hair, contrasting starkly with the white snow. _Weaslette_, he had mentally sneered down at her, though she remained oblivious to his glare. He had relaxed after a few moments and simply took the girl in.  
  
She had grown, these past few years, he admitted to himself. But she was still small, with awkward limbs, and she was not what one would categorize as beautiful. Her eyes were big and brown, and her lips full, and she had a pert little nose, with a more than healthy spattering of freckles. But she still looked like a child for the most part. Her face had yet to mature, and her body definitely had a lot of catching up to do. Draco smirked cruelly. Even _Granger_ was hot next to the baby Weasley.  
  
Still, there was something about the little red head that drew him in. _Probably that horrid red hair_, he scoffed mentally. _Who could miss her when she looks like her head is on fire?_ But it was not that, and he knew it. In fact, her hair had begun to grow a bit darker since the end of the summer. It was still that horrendous Weasley orange, just a bit darker. He remembered first meeting her, at Flourish and Blotts before his second year. The anger in her eyes had been what caught his attention about her, the way the emotion highlighted the gold flecks in her irises. She had been so small, yet fierce and fiery, that after that he could not help but notice the girl when he passed her. He found it disgusting how she followed Potter around like a puppy-dog her first few years at Hogwarts. When she was around scar-head, the light within her visibly diminished, and that irked Draco for reasons he could not identify. He had spent the past few years ignoring her mostly, and really had not even been sure what her name was until Blaise had used it the day before during their altercation in the hallway.  
  
And that was something else. _Blaise._ What was he doing with the little Gryff, anyways? He should know better than to demean their house by associating with such filthy commoners. Draco sneered. Blaise had always been a good ally and friend to him in Slytherin house. Although Blaise's father and grandfather, the current Lord of the House of Zabini, were not Death Eaters, his uncle – his father's elder brother – had been, before he died in the first war. Agostino Zabini had been well-respected in Voldemort's inner circle, and was second to only Draco's own father, Lucius, in the hierarchy. Agostino Zabini's sacrifice, as well as the senior Zabinis' pureblood pride, were the only things that kept the Zabini men safe from the dark mark. As it was, it did not look as though that leniency would continue to be granted for much longer in this second war.  
  
Draco had shaken his head slightly – wanting to rid himself of thoughts of Voldemort and Death Eaters – and stood from the cool floor of the Astronomy classroom to make his way back to his dorm quickly to shower and change before breakfast, when he saw the second figure leave the castle and head toward the small bundle by the lake. Draco had watched the boy – who was unmistakably Blaise Zabini – stop several feet away from the young girl. He seemed to have been waiting for her to notice his presence. Draco had almost snarled as he turned swiftly from the scene below, and made his way out of the Astronomy Tower and to the Slytherin dorms. After preparing himself for the day, he had made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, where he ignored Pansy's chattering as he waited for his traitorous friend.  
  
Now, he realized he had not approached the topic with Blaise as tactfully as he could have. But, then again, what more could be expected when he had had no sleep the night before? Draco put down his fork, and pushed away from the table, intent on heading to his first class early so he could have some time alone to think – as though he had not had enough of that already. He signaled to Crabbe and Goyle to stay, and told Blaise and Pansy he would see them in class, so they knew not to follow him.  
  
As Draco made his way to the exit, he unconsciously glanced quickly at the Gryffindor table. Ginny Weasley was sitting by Camera Boy and Longbottom again, but this time a blonde Ravenclaw he knew was referred to as "Loony" had joined them. Draco shook his head slightly as he left the Great Hall, and headed straight to the main doors of the castle. Why should he care who Ginny Weasley was sitting with? _I don't!_ he adamantly stated to himself. Draco stalked all the way from the Entrance Hall to Greenhouse Six, where his Herbology class would be meeting that morning.  
  
He entered the Greenhouse and took his seat, waiting for the rest of the class to arrive. He could not understand the pull he felt towards that little girl. She was a _child_, really. If he needed any more proof of that, he could just look at their encounter in the hallway after lunch yesterday. Someone was always present to look after her, take care of her, to _protect_ her. Even if the Dream Team had not shown up, Draco suspected that Blaise would have gladly filled the role. Although, he reluctantly admitted to himself, she seemed to have been handling the situation just fine on her own, before her buffoon of a brother and his other halves had come onto the scene.  
  
Oh, how he despised Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Harry Potter, who was Gryffindor's Golden Boy; who broke countless rules and was rewarded for it; who could catch the snitch without even really trying, while Draco spent hours upon hours of his free time honing his skills. Then there was the elder Weasley at Hogwarts, who was the trusty side kick; who acted first, and thought later, if ever; who had all the tact of a giant purple hippogryff. And of course, Hermione Granger: the muggle-born who was said to be the cleverest witch of their generation; who always managed to be at least one point ahead of him in their classes; whose damn know-it-all attitude could get on his last nerve.  
  
The Dream Team. More like Draco's living nightmare. In earlier years, their petty fights were something he had looked forward to. But recently, especially since his time with his mother the past summer, he could not be bothered with their small bickerings. He knew what they thought of him – he knew they expected him to be a little Death Eater in training. It was what they wanted, so they could despise him that much more, so they could bring him down with his supposed "master." But Draco refused to give them that satisfaction. He would be better than they expected, than they could ever suspect. That was why he refused to stoop to the senior Weasley's level yesterday in the hallway – he was a Malfoy and a Black, and did not need to stoop to the Neanderthalic levels of a Weasley.  
  
Draco came out of his mental rant as he felt Blaise and Pansy take their places on either side of him, and Crabbe and Goyle positioned themselves nearby.  
  
"Pansy, Blaise," he greeted.  
  
"Really, Draco, what has gotten into you?" Pansy questioned quietly. "You never come to Herbology early – you hate coming at all!" Then she turned to pull out her books and began to mutter quietly, and he only caught snippets: "... so vain... aversion to dirt... worse than a girl!"  
  
"Pansy," came the sharp reply, which quickly shut the brunette up. "Are you quite finished, then?" Draco continued in what was clearly mock sweetness veiling a surmountable amount of anger.  
  
Pansy just nodded, realizing the seriousness behind Draco's tone. But before Draco could lay his anger out on her, Blaise stepped in.  
  
"That is enough, for now," he stated; and so it was done. "We will continue this at another time, when class is not about to begin."  
  
Pansy rolled her eyes at Blaise's classroom etiquette – he could be as bad as Granger at times! Draco kept quiet, but looked up to see that Goyle was eyeing him suspiciously, obviously having heard their exchange. Crabbe, thankfully, had been too busy playing with the carnivorous plant that they would be working with this morning to pay any attention to the three. Draco looked away from Gregory Goyle, and instead focused on organizing his supplies for the start of class – he knew that the larger boy was a lot more intelligent than many gave him credit for.  
  
Herbology with Professor Sprout passed by quickly, and then Draco enjoyed a two hour nap in History of Magic, before the bell signaled that it was time for lunch. Draco turned from the corridor where the History of Magic classroom was located, intending to head to the Great Hall, when he was stopped by both Blaise and Pansy.  
  
"Go on to lunch, boys," Pansy cooed to Crabbe and Goyle. "We have a Potions project to work on now. We'll see you in the common room later tonight."  
  
The two boys nodded, and headed towards the Great Hall, while Blaise, Pansy, and Draco took a route that would lead to the dungeons. They said nothing as they traveled, though they managed to intimidate a fair portion of the student body on their journey: the Slytherin trio really could seem quite imposing. When they reached the empty Slytherin common room, Draco headed straight to his green dragon-hide wing-back chair, and threw himself gracefully onto it.  
  
There was a moment's pause, then: "A Potions project?" Draco drawled mockingly, looking to his two closest confidantes in Slytherin for an answer.  
  
Pansy and Blaise quickly exchanged a glance by the common room entrance, where they still stood, before making their way to the couch placed across from Draco's chair. After Blaise quickly cast a silencing charm to ensure that their conversation would remain private, he began.  
  
"We are not here to play games, Draco," he replied seriously. "We know there is something bothering you, and we only wish to help."  
  
"Really, Draco, if you can't come to us with a problem, who can you turn to?" Pansy intoned. "I thought we agreed long ago, when we forged our alliances, that we would help each other through whatever obstacles came," she said quietly.  
  
Draco said nothing, and he would not look at them.  
  
Blaise sighed. "Very well, Draco. You know where to find us when you are ready." He stood and went to leave, but turned back to where his friends were sitting when he neared the stone wall entrance. "Remember this, Draco. We made a pact, on our blood, that we would support one another; that there would be no betrayal tolerated." He paused then, and Draco finally met his eyes. "I know we were children then, and we have changed much since that agreement was made. We were not even _Slytherins_ then. And though we are Slytherins now, in a house that has been warped to see friendship as a weakness, I assure you that I will not be the one to break our bond." And with those words, he left.  
  
Pansy looked at Draco, who was still staring at the spot where Blaise had stood a few moments before. "Draco," she said quietly, moving to sit on the arm of his chair. She took one of his large hands in both of her smaller ones and tried to reach her friend. "I know you have been acting differently since the beginning of this term. But it is something more now – I can see that, and so can Blaise," she said in a soft tone that any Gryffindor would have been shocked to hear coming from this normally venomous Slytherin.  
  
Draco let out a quiet sigh and turned to face the girl he had known his entire life. "When I am more certain of what it is I face, you will be the first I turn to," he said quietly, seriously.  
  
Pansy nodded, with a small smile on her face. She let go of his hand, and stood. "Well, enough of this Hufflepuff behavior," she drawled, "I am simply famished, and I insist that you, Mr. Malfoy, walk me up to the Great Hall for my meal." She smirked as Draco shook off his troublesome thoughts, and stood obediently, ready to escort her.  
  
Realizing half-way to the Great Hall that Crabbe and Goyle would be suspicious if they arrived for lunch after their "Potions project" excuse – Goyle much moreso than Crabbe, admittedly – Draco and Pansy made their way to the kitchens. When they arrived, it was to the disturbing scene of their missing third party laughing – _laughing!_ – with none other than the youngest Weasley.

.

.

Ginny's mood had deteriorated throughout the morning after she had left Blaise at the castle entrance. So when she had run into her Slytherin friend – _not_ literally, this time, thank the gods – after dropping off her Potions homework to Snape in the dungeons, she was glad to take him up on his offer for lunch and some birthday cake in the kitchens.  
  
The morning truly had been horrid. First had been breakfast, spent with Neville, Colin, and Luna, who had snuck over from the Ravenclaw table. The four had quietly deliberated what to do in celebration that evening, and decided on butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. Actually, breakfast had been rather nice, but Ginny's first class effectively dampened her spirits. Snape was much too gleeful when he informed her that she had landed herself detention with him that evening, for having forgotten her finished Potions assignment in her dorm room that morning. That had been after he had taken off ten points. Next, in Transfiguration, when she had been called upon to turn a dove into a flower, she somehow managed to turn it into a snake instead. The situation only turned uglier when the snake slithered off of her desk and roamed free on the floor. That was another fifteen points Gryffindor could have done without losing. Then, when she had gone to grab her potions homework from Gryffindor Tower to turn in before Snape could knock off more than one letter grade, she had apparently walked in on what was supposed to be a secret meeting of the great Gryffindor trio. Ron had sputtered a bit and demanded to know what she was doing back at the Tower, while Harry and Hermione hid whatever it was the three had been looking at. Ginny had calmly explained the situation with her Potions homework, and quickly made to get the scroll, cutting off Hermione in mid-lecture. But that was not what hurt the most. No, it was the fact that it was obvious that none of the chosen three – neither her long-time crush Harry, her ex-best friend Hermione, nor her brother Ron – seemed to remember that today was her sixteenth birthday. So, really, time with Blaise was exactly what she needed now.  
  
What she did not need was Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy barging in on her birthday lunch.  
  
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" Malfoy seemed truly peeved about something. "Why it's the little Weaslette, and, of course, my dear friend Blaise." If Ginny didn't know any better, she would think that Malfoy was upset that Blaise was spending time with her.  
  
Wait. She didn't know better. She knew that Malfoy wouldn't want Slytherin House demeaned by having one of his housemates being friendly with a lowly, common, filthy, muggle-loving, Gryffindor _Weasley_. Ginny felt her temper start to rise as her rage at the egotistical blonde boiled. She was stopped from spitting out a scathing remark, however, by Blaise, who placed his hand on her arm, and caught her eye. Still holding her gaze, he addressed Malfoy, who had stopped to stand with Parkinson a few feet away.  
  
"I suggest, Draco," he stated clearly and smoothly, "that if you wish to dine here today, you place your order with the house elves and seat yourself far away from us."  
  
Ginny looked up in time to see Malfoy leveling a cold glare at the dark haired boy. She shifted uncomfortably – she did not want to be the cause of any rift between them. Though Blaise had never expanded on his relationship with Malfoy to Ginny, she knew the boys were close, and had been for years. Those relationships were precious, and she refused to damage theirs – even if it was Ferret Boy's pig-headedness that was the obvious problem.  
  
"You know, I really should go to the library to do some work before my afternoon classes," she excused, getting up from where she had been seated across from Blaise. She was stopped from fully standing by Blaise's tightening grip on her arm.  
  
Parkinson seemed to have realized that a temporary cease-fire was the best option in this situation, so she cut in. "Oh, no, that won't be necessary. We all obviously need nourishment, so we will all sit and enjoy a quiet meal like the civilized witches and wizards we are." She shot a glare at Malfoy when he snorted, most presumably at the thought of a _Weasley_ being civilized.  
  
Ginny hesitated, but as Blaise's grip on her arm had not relaxed, and he was looking at her in way that promised dire consequences if she were to walk away now, she sat back down. Parkinson took the bench space beside her. The three looked up to see a clearly livid Draco Malfoy, though Ginny thought this reaction was a bit extreme for the situation. Perhaps there was something else going on...  
  
But she did not have time to ponder the possibilities as Malfoy strode purposely over to the table, placed himself rigidly beside Blaise, and snapped his fingers for the house-elves to begin attending to him. He quickly gave his order to an excited little elf, and then promptly continued to ignore his table mates. Parkinson added her order to Malfoy's, as Blaise and Ginny had already given their meal requests, and the elf informed them that their food would be brought out momentarily.  
  
An uncomfortable quiet descended upon the table as the four waited for their food. That is, until Parkinson noticed Ginny's newly acquired jewelry.  
  
"Where did you get that necklace, Weasley?" she questioned directly, as Ginny flushed slightly. "I think I have seen one like it before, but it can't be the same..." she trailed off, looking to Blaise for an answer.  
  
"It is the same," he replied shortly to her questioning gaze, obviously not willing to share any more information. Pansy blinked, then turned away.  
  
Ginny was stopped from asking what her new necklace was the same as, by the house-elves, who chose that moment to arrive with the food and pumpkin juice. The four students commenced eating, and the silence that followed now was much less stifling than had existed previously. The quiet was broken, however, when the elves returned to clear away their lunch plates and replaced them with chocolate cake and milk.  
  
"What's with the cake?" Parkinson questioned. "Not that I'm complaining," she quickly added at Blaise's raised eyebrow.  
  
Blaise smirked and explained to Ginny: "Pansy is a chronic choco-holic," he grinned.  
  
Ginny giggled a bit and said, "What self-respecting girl isn't?" She paused for a moment, then scrunched her nose a bit. "Well, except for Hermione. How she eats that sugar-free crap her parents insist on her having is something I will never understand."  
  
"Well she is a _mudblood_," Malfoy cut in after having remained quiet and uninterested in his companions for the better part of their time in the kitchens.  
  
Ginny glared at the blonde boy. "I don't see what being muggle-born has to do with it. Her link to muggles does not make her less of a person," she seethed. "Have you seen those oafs Crabbe and Goyle that you hang around? They're pureblooded, but honestly, they resemble trolls more than humans!"  
  
Parkinson let out a light laugh, and Ginny and Malfoy turned to look at her incredulously.  
  
"What?" the Slytherin girl asked, smirking slightly. "She does have a point there."  
  
Blaise cut in impatiently: "Could we eat the cake, and then discuss politics, please?" His fork was poised, ready to attack the gooey chocolatey goodness sitting on his plate.  
  
"Ah, poor Blaise," Ginny cooed mockingly. "How thoughtless of us to keep you from your _widdle tweat_." She simply smirked when he glared at her. "Cake it is then," she said, lifting her fork. She, Parkinson, and Blaise happily dug into their desserts.  
  
"Did she just _smirk_?" Malfoy seemed to be a few minutes behind.  
  
"You really should eat your cake, Malfoy," Ginny said helpfully, ignoring his question. "Blaise is almost done with his piece, and I don't believe he is above forcibly taking yours." After glancing at Blaise to ascertain that she spoke the truth, Malfoy picked up his fork and took a small, elegant bite. Ginny just rolled her eyes and continued eating.  
  
"You never did say what the cake was for," he remarked after another small bite. Ginny was ready to strangle him for his damn etiquette.  
  
"It's Ginny's birthday," Blaise supplied, as Ginny was too busy glaring at Malfoy jealously over his table manners to respond.  
  
Malfoy started, and looked up. Ginny quickly looked away, blushing slightly.  
  
"Oh, really," he drawled, causing the fine hairs on the back of Ginny's neck to prickle. "And how old is the little Gryff turning today? Ten?" He smirked when Ginny shot him her most vicious death stare.  
  
"Six - teen," she bit out slowly, her fiery gaze still fixated on the Ferret before her. She fed and encouraged the rage, so as to keep the hurt buried within. Her age was something that had worked against her, her entire life. She was the youngest of her family, and therefore usually thought of last, as well. It was also used quite often as a reason to exclude her. Also, although her birthday was early in the school year, making her numerically older than her classmates, physically she was far behind in maturing compared with the other girls in her grade. Malfoy's comment stung more than she was willing to allow him to know. Surprisingly, it was Parkinson, not Blaise, who tried to smooth things over.  
  
"Of course you're sixteen," she said practically. "You are a fifth year this year, are you not?" At Ginny's slight nod in confirmation, Parkinson continued, "Really, Draco, where have you been? You should have known that," she said, leveling him a gaze that Ginny could not read.  
  
Malfoy reacted to Parkinson's accusation of ignorance rather well. That is to say, he scowled at her, stood abruptly from the table, and stormed out of the kitchens.  
  
"Well," Blaise chuckled a bit a few moments later, savoring his last bite of the sweet chocolate cake. "That went well."

.

.

Draco was pissed. And not the kind of pissed that results from partaking in too much Ogden's Firewhiskey.  
  
Lunch with the Weaslette had been a bad idea. When he had first seen her and Blaise in the kitchens, he felt something decidedly dark within him stir. But he had shrugged it off as a delayed reaction to his mother's letter, and followed Pansy's suggestion of cooperation, with the self- stated stipulation that the only way to have a civilized meal with a Weasley was to ignore that Weasley. So he had, throwing Blaise and Pansy on the blacklist as well. But then Pansy had asked about the necklace. Now he realized that it must have been Blaise's birthday present to the little Gryff. It was obviously an important piece of jewelry, if Pansy's reaction to seeing it on Weasley was any indication. He himself had not been able to recognize the pendant, but he had decided then that _something_ must have been going on between Blaise and the female Weasley, if the bloke was giving her jewelry. Draco couldn't identify what it was about the situation that irked him so. He did not approve of Blaise's relationship with the girl. He admitted, reluctantly, that he would not have had such a problem if it had been Pansy doing the befriending instead. But that did not mean that he was in any way _jealous_ of Blaise, or that he wanted or _liked_ Ginny Weasley. Because he wasn't, and he didn't. At least that was what he told himself.  
  
So, really, their lunch had progressed as peacefully as it could have been expected to. That is, of course, until he simply pointed out, in true Malfoy fashion, that the little Weasley looked young for her age. The look she had given him should have frozen his insides; instead it made him burn. Pansy's pathetic mediation simply aggravated the strange fire that had built inside of him under the gaze of Ginny Weasley's bright eyes. So he did what any self-respecting Slytherin would do when he saw that the odds were against him: he executed a flawless exit. As he made his way to his first afternoon class, he shook his head slightly: That Weasley girl was trouble.

.

.

Seven o'clock found Ginny Weasley being stared down by a sinfully gleeful Snape, while Harry Potter glared at the Potions Master from his position beside her. After a long afternoon of classes – with minimum point deductions, thank the gods – and a light dinner with Colin and Neville, she had made her way down to the damp, drafty dungeons for her punishment, only to find that she would be serving it with Harry, and for the most hated professor at Hogwarts.  
  
"Two young Gryffindors in detention," their professor drawled in mock surprise. "Well, I am sure that these putrid-coated cauldrons will keep you very busy for the rest of the night," he said, gesturing to two teetering piles located at one corner of the Potions dungeon. "Oh," he paused in mid-turn to his desk, "and no wands." He held out his hand, and Ginny and Harry dutifully handed their wands over, though Harry looked like he really wanted to say something about it. Ginny sighed as she saw her workload, and realized that her friends' decision to delay their Hogsmeade outing until she had finished with her detention had been in vain.  
  
Harry smiled weakly at her as they made their way over to the piles. "So what did you do to get the privilege of being stuck in detention with Snape?" he asked quietly, glancing back to make sure the Potions Master was not paying attention to them.  
  
"Forgot my homework," Ginny replied just as quietly, though she had already told him earlier that day, before lunch, about what had happened.  
  
"Right," he nodded, the memory seeming to have come back to him. "Ron and I were trying to shut Malfoy up," he provided to her unasked question. She nodded in understanding. "Ron served down here last night, while tonight is my turn."  
  
The two got down to work, scrubbing the cauldrons the muggle way, and with minimal conversation. Two hours later showed barely a change in their piles. Ginny was starting to suspect that Snape had charmed them to be never-ending. She started on what she was sure had to be her fiftieth cauldron when the dungeon doors opened and Draco Malfoy strolled in.  
  
He paused, for a moment, when he spotted Ginny and Harry. And then he smirked at them, and continued on this path to Snape.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy," Snape looked up. "What can I help you with tonight?"  
  
Malfoy stopped just short of Snape's desk. "I wanted to discuss some things with you regarding the game coming up against Ravenclaw after the end of the holidays," he provided.  
  
Snape nodded and gestured for Malfoy to go on into his office, the entrance to which was just off to the side of the Potions classroom. Ginny watched as Malfoy disappeared into the office. Snape stood and addressed the two detainees.  
  
"I suggest you both concentrate on leveling those piles of cauldrons," he sneered as he walked toward the adjoining room. "I won't be too long, so don't even think of skiving off."  
  
Ginny turned away from the closed door to Snape's office to see Harry directing a glare where the professor's form had last stood.  
  
"He's not there anymore, you know," she smiled slightly.  
  
Harry turned a bit pink, and glanced at her, before turning back to the cauldron he had been working on. "Yeah, well, I just can't stand him," he excused with a shrug.  
  
Ginny nodded, and they both continued to scour through the piles of cauldrons. After another ten minutes of intense washing, she heard Harry sigh.  
  
"So," he started, "Ron said that you're not coming back to Order Headquarters for Christmas this year?"  
  
Ginny's hands stilled for a moment, before she continued brushing through the grime-coated mess of the cauldron in front of her. "Yeah," she answered nonchalantly, careful not to look at him. "Colin and Dennis are staying as well, because of Dumbledore's warning, so I thought I would stay and keep them company." That was not all a lie. Dumbledore had made an announcement at breakfast over a month ago, warning students of the danger from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, especially to muggle-borns; he advised that Hogwarts was the safest place they could be. But most parents wanted their children home for the holidays in these dark times, so many were still leaving the safety of the castle for Christmas. Others, like Colin's parents, understood that it was best if their children stayed at Hogwarts. Ginny _did _want to spend the holidays with Colin. She also specifically did _not_ want to spend her break with the Dream Team – one summer of intense exclusion was enough.  
  
Harry put away the cauldron he had just washed to dry, then wiped his hands and walked to where Ginny was still working on a particularly stubborn spot on her cauldron a few feet away.  
  
"You know, Gin," he said quietly, "we really would have liked for you to come." He smiled sheepishly. "I know things get busy while we're here, but we could have used the holidays to catch up."  
  
Ginny looked up at Harry, and started when she realized just how close he was. She could see clearly into his emerald eyes, and her breath caught as remnants of her old crush came to haunt her senses. She quickly shifted her gaze back to her work and prayed to every deity she could think of that the cursed Weasley blush would not make an appearance. She was saved from actually having to say anything in her condition by Draco Malfoy, who conveniently – or not so conveniently – made his exit from Snape's office at that moment.

.

.  
  
The sight that met Draco in the Potions dungeon after he left a rather confusing meeting with Snape was something he had been unprepared for. But he quickly recovered from his momentary... _shock?_... at finding Potter so close to the little Weasley. And _damnit_, the little brat was _blushing_! Draco plastered on his trademark smirk – guaranteed to make the blood of any Gryffindor boil – and made his way over to the pair.  
  
"Well, isn't this cozy?" he drawled, successfully keeping the rage he felt out of his voice. "And here I thought detention was supposed to be a punishment," he mused. "Though," he amended, "I can see how snogging each other would be a chore for either of you." He brushed off the glares sent his way.  
  
Potter stepped away from Weasley, and gave Draco a cold look. "There is nothing going on here, _Malfoy_," he spat the name. "What would you know, anyway? You probably have to pay a girl to snog you!" He gave a triumphant grin, seeming pleased with his insult.  
  
Draco simply rolled his eyes slightly and directed his silver gaze to the little red head. "Looks like Potter still doesn't want the baby Weasley. I wonder why..." he pretended to think on it as the Weaslette continued to try to ignore him and focus on the cauldron in front of her. Her stance of non-response aggravated Draco. He stepped as close to the girl as he could without touching her, drawing his wand simultaneously to keep Potter at bay. He felt her stiffen as he whispered lowly in her ear, so his voice would not carry to Potter. "It's probably because there are so many other girls in this school that actually possess the... _assets_... that a guy looks for." When she continued to studiously ignore him, he went in for the kill. "Just look at Granger – now she has a nice body, for a mudblood. I'd bet galleons that Potter's shagging her," he finished with a pleased smirk as the girl dropped the cauldron she had been trying to wash. As she bent down to pick it up, Draco looked over at Potter, who was standing a few feet away, seething. When the little Weasley had recovered the wayward cauldron, she continued to scrub, still refusing to look at him; and Draco was fuming because of it.  
  
"Aw," he said in a mock sympathetic tone, louder now so that Potter could hear clearly, "did I hurt your feelings? Maybe you can ask Potter to snog you as your birthday present." Weasley froze at his statement. Finally, he thought, a response. But after casting a quick glance at Potter to make sure that he would not be making any moves to attack, he realized why she had reacted. Her stiff back and the look on Potter's face said it all. "Tsk, tsk," he drawled, shaking his head slightly with a smirk on his face, "and I thought little Gryffindors were better friends than that... Now if Potter forgot that today was your birthday, does that mean the rest of the Dream Team did as well?" he smirked, though deep inside a small part of him wondered angrily how the idiot Weasel could forget his own sister's birthday.  
  
Potter's glare answered his spoken question, though Draco had already been pretty certain of the answer. He turned to look at the Weaslette, who had gone back to cleaning the cauldrons and ignoring him. If asked later, he would never be able to explain what made him do it, but at that moment he did not want the little red head stuck in the Potions dungeon with scar- head, scrubbing an endless pile of cauldrons all night, on her sixteenth birthday. He made his decision quickly, and before he realized it, he had pointed his wand at the Weasley girl's pile and said "_Scourgify_!" He returned her surprised look with a piercing one of his own, and then swept out of the room, taking a moment to sneer at the slack-jawed Potter. He headed straight to the Slytherin dorms, and then up to bed. Sleep depravation, he decided, was making him do crazy things.

.

.  
  
Ginny stared at the spot where Draco Malfoy had exited the room for at least a minute after he had gone. She turned to her pile of now sparkling clean cauldrons, then turned back to the door once more, trying to comprehend what had just happened.  
  
She was startled out of her shocked trance by Harry, who had walked up beside her and coughed slightly to get her attention. She looked up, but he would not meet her eyes. "Um," he stuttered, and Ginny had a good idea of what he was going to say, so she stopped him.  
  
"It's okay, Harry," she cut in quickly, not really in the mood to talk to her old crush at the moment, "We've all been busy these past few weeks." She forced out a light laugh. "Even I forgot until Luna reminded me last night," she admitted. Harry looked like he wanted to say something, but Ginny truly did not want to hear it. "I am going to go ask Snape if I can go now." With that, she swiftly turned and walked away, leaving Harry still trying to the get his words out.  
  
She knocked lightly on the door of Snape's office, where the professor had remained after his short meeting with Malfoy.  
  
A curt, "Come," answered her knock, and she opened the door slightly, casting a quick glance around the dark room filled with odd jars, and then entered. Snape was sitting at his desk, with what Ginny recognized as a pensieve in front of him. Her wand lay next to Harry's on the far edge of the desk. "What is it, Ms. Weasley?" he asked when she stopped to stand before him.  
  
Ginny took a deep breath and gathered her Gryffindor courage. "My pile of cauldrons is all clean, Professor, so I was wondering if I could be dismissed now?"  
  
Snape looked truly surprised for a moment, before the ever-present scowl returned to his face. "There were many cauldrons assigned to you, Ms. Weasley," he said carefully. "How did you manage to clean them all so quickly?"  
  
Ginny shrugged slightly, and decided that the truth was the best answer available. "Malfoy cast a _Scourgify _charm on them," she responded directly. The shock on Snape's face lasted much longer this time. "Professor?" she asked, when he had not spoken for more than a few moments.  
  
"Very well, then, Ms. Weasley," he recovered, lowering his gaze to shuffle some papers at one side of his desk. He was no doubt trying to figure out what had led his star pupil so awry. "You are dismissed. You may take your wand."  
  
Ginny quickly thanked the Potions Master, grabbed her wand, and exited the office. She grabbed her things from the classroom, and waved slightly to Harry, who was still working on his immense load, as she left. Ginny used her walking time to think about what had transpired in the dungeons earlier. Harry had come up so close to her that she couldn't help but react the way any girl would to a cute boy that she liked, whether romantically or not. But then Malfoy had said all of those horrid things, and Harry had distanced himself from her as he always did. When Malfoy had whispered in her ear, she had had to strain to keep a cool shiver from running down her spine at his closeness. But the things he had said, things that she knew could be true, but refused to accept... She had kept her eyes on her work because she refused to let him see the hurt he had caused in them. She would not give him that satisfaction.  
  
And then his personality seemed to shift completely, and he had cast a charm to lessen her work. She did not understand why he had done that, if he hated her as much as he claimed to.  
  
"Ginny!" The red head was grabbed around the waist and twirled around. When her attacker set her down, she noted dazedly that she had made it to the Entrance Hall – Gryffindor Tower was straight forward, up seven flights of stairs, two turns to the right and one to the left. She shook her head slightly to be rid of the dizziness caused by the over-excited hug, and smiled up at Colin, who was grinning down at her. "Ready to go to Hogsmeade?" he stage whispered, looking around to make sure that no one was loitering and listening to their conversation. "We were just coming down to check on how much longer you would be in detention."  
  
At his use of we, Ginny noticed that Luna was standing a few feet behind the tall boy. "Hey, Colin, Luna," she smiled. "I just got out, so we can go now," she answered Colin's question.  
  
Luna nodded, and then said, "Neville wanted to come, but he apparently has a huge Potions assignment due by the end of the day tomorrow that he has been having trouble finishing."  
  
"Hermione was helping him when I left the common room," Colin added.  
  
Ginny nodded in understanding and the three made their way to the statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor. Being Fred and George's sister definitely had some perks, such as knowing the secret passages out of the school. The three climbed stealthily into the tunnel, careful not to leave any evidence for Filch or Mrs. Norris to find, then walked with their wands lit to the basement entrance of Honeydukes. The store was thankfully deserted, as it had closed at nine, so the three were free to make their way out of the candy shop with minimal trouble. As they walked the darkened streets of the village, Ginny noticed how quiet it seemed. But that was to be expected, as the wizarding world was now under the threat of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. No one was safe. There were actually fewer Hogsmeade visits scheduled this year, and they were much more heavily chaperoned. But Colin, Luna, and Ginny were three members of the D.A. – they could take care of themselves if anything were to happen on their little excursion. Or so they believed.  
  
As it was, the three made it without incident to the Three Broomsticks, where they claimed a booth in the back and asked Madame Rosmerta for three butterbeers. When the pub matron arrived with their order, she gave them a knowing smile, and told them not to return to school too late. They promised the elder witch that they would be careful, and paid her for the drinks.  
  
Colin raised his glass first. "To Ginny," he said solemnly. "Happy Birthday, and many happy returns."  
  
"To Ginny," Luna responded resolutely, while clinking her glass with Colin's, then Ginny's.  
  
"Thanks, guys," the Birthday girl just blushed and her smile was radiant.  
  
Ginny and her friends spent another hour in the Three Broomsticks, while each indulged in a second butterbeer and a shared plate of chips. The trip back to the castle went quickly, and Colin and Ginny walked Luna back to the Ravenclaw dorms before heading back to Gryffindor. It was almost midnight by the time they reached the Portrait of the Fat Lady, and definitely past curfew. That did not, however, ensure an empty common room. In fact, the common room was currently occupied by one fuming red head and his two annoying best friends. Colin and Ginny froze just inside of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindor trio stood to face them.  
  
"Ginevra Weasley, just where in Merlin's name have you been?" Ron nearly bellowed, his face clashing with his hair. Ginny noticed Hermione quickly cast a silencing charm so their _discussion_ would not wake the rest of Gryffindor Tower.  
  
"Out," came her simple response. Ginny just rolled her eyes at her brother and made to walk to the stairway leading up to the girls' dorms, before Ron roughly grabbed her by the arm to stop her. Colin quickly stepped forward, his wand already pointed at Ron's head. Ginny shook her arm away from Ron, and rubbed the spot where she was sure a bruise would appear in the morning. She backed away towards Colin, whom she gestured to lower his wand. He was not happy with that request, but complied.  
  
"Ron," she began, her voice icy, "if you have something to say to me, then say it. But do not stand there and presume you have the right to manhandle or yell at me like a five-year-old."  
  
His face only grew more flushed. "If you didn't act like a five-year- old, I wouldn't have to treat you like one!" He shouted, ignoring her request. "And I can yell at you if I want, you're _my_ little sister!"  
  
"I'm _my_ own person, and I refuse to take this crap from you any longer," she spat back. "And as far as acting like a child, I think you're the only one in this room that qualifies for that description!"  
  
"Maybe we should all just calm down a bit," Hermione cut in soothingly, casting a nervous glance up the stairs.  
  
Ron ignored her and continued on his rant. "What were you thinking roaming around at night?" his decibel level was still much too high for Ginny's liking. "You could have been hurt! These are dangerous times, Ginny!"  
  
"And Hogwarts is the safest place in the wizarding world to be," she cut in.  
  
"True, but were you in Hogwarts all this evening, Ginny?" Hermione questioned astutely.  
  
Ginny nearly snarled. Nearly – she was much too controlled to let that expression reach her face. Ron jumped on Hermione's suggestion and continued his supremely disturbing imitation of an angry Molly Weasley.  
  
"Where were you, Ginny? I suggest you start talking now, before I send an owl to Mum," he threatened. Ginny was unmoved. She knew there were some problems with the post, but that did not excuse the fact that she had not received any birthday greetings from any other members of her family. She assumed they would lump it together with Christmas, as they usually did. But that did not negate the hurt-turned-to-defiance at the moment. _Let Ron write to Mum_, she thought bitterly, _then I can ask her why she forgot my birthday_.  
  
When Ginny still kept quiet about her whereabouts, Ron decided to interrogate her accomplice. "Creevey," he ground out, and Colin took a step back while raising his wand back up.  
  
"C'mon, Colin," Harry spoke for the first time since Ginny and Colin had returned to the common room. "That's not necessary," he stepped forward and put a restraining hand on Ron's shoulder. "We were just worried about Ginny," he explained.  
  
"Then perhaps you should treat her like the sixteen-year-old girl she is, instead of a little lapdog that you think answers to you. Who made you the authority around here, anyways?" Colin sneered back. Oh yes, he was definitely over his hero-worshipping stage.  
  
"Ron and I are prefects –" Hermione started.  
  
"So am I," Ginny cut in irately.  
  
"Well we're older --" was Ron's patent defense.  
  
"Bullshit." Ginny was starting to become really aggravated. "You did much worse when you were fifth years and younger."  
  
"Fine, then," Hermione seemed quite peeved, if the coloring of her face and the pursing of her lips were any indication. "If you won't listen to us, then perhaps you will listen to Professor McGonagall."  
  
That was enough!  
  
"Maybe you should stay out of situations and conversations that do not concern you! Just because you are _Ron's_ friends does not give you the right to interfere in _my_ life." Ginny could not resist responding scathingly. She ignored the older girl's stricken look, too caught up in the moment, and too relieved to finally be releasing the pent up anger, hurt, and feelings of betrayal that had been building within her since the summer. "And the last time I checked, neither of you were Weasleys! So stay out of this," she bit out, focusing her glare on Harry and Hermione. This was not what she needed right now. She did not need the Dream Team to ruin the end of what had already been a long, confusing, and draining day.  
  
Ron took a step toward Ginny, his features warring between rage and disbelief. Colin lifted his wand more threateningly against the older Weasley, but that was unnecessary as Ginny had drawn her own wand on the taller red head. "Please," she said in a calm, cold voice, "take one more step towards me so that I can show you just how _helpless_," she spat out the word, "I really am."  
  
Ron paused in his attack, and Ginny used the opportunity to slip over to the door leading to the girls' dorms, keeping her wand trained on the trio, as Harry and Hermione had moved to stand by their friend. Ginny saw the tears the older girl was holding back, but at the moment she was beyond caring. She nodded goodnight to Colin, who had also used that time to get to the door leading to the boys' dorms, and swiftly turned and made her way through the entrance and up the spiral staircase. It had been a long day. And she needed sleep, badly.

* * *

Author's Notes:

xmag: Thanks for the long review... I am a great fan of Lady Rhiyana's work, and your comparison of my writing to hers is an honor, so thank you. As far as the contents of the letter, that is one of the mysteries of the story: I can tell you now that I have finished the first five chapters of "Veritas Amo," and am currently working on the sixth; I expect the actual wording of the letter to be revealed at the end of Chapter 6, but there are hints to its nature in the other chapters; Zabini's behavior is also one of those things that you will just have to wait to learn more about, but I hope Chapter 2 answered some questions... I definitely agree with your argument about Narcissa's influence on Draco – he needs someone to oppose Lucius' corruption of him... I plan on updating regularly, so I hope you continue to enjoy...  
  
bri: Thanks for the review – even the short, but sweet, messages encourage me to continue writing...  
  
staceyisnotmyname: Hmm... interesting username:); thanks for the review, and have no worries – I definitely plan on continuing through to the end of this story...  
  
Eve Granger: Thanks for the review... I have actually already written the first five chapters, and am simply revising and proofing each before posting, so updates should be regular; as for the title, I devised it to mean "(The) Truth in Love" in Latin.  
  
mell8: Thanks for the review... updates should be regular – I am hoping to be able to post about twice a week, unless I get stuck somewhere along the way on the plot; that should not happen, as the entire story (all twelve chapters) is already quite specifically outlined...  
  
J-Kid: Thanks for such a complimentary review – I couldn't stop smiling while I read it:)... Updates should be fairly regular, so I hope you continue to enjoy my work; as far as other stories I have written, there are none – this is my first fanfic, although I am currently working on an unrelated D/G song-fic...  
  
Christelle: Thanks for the review... I'm glad you like it so far; I actually had four and a half chapters finished before I posted anything, so I allow myself the time to revise my chapters before posting – good to know that it's appreciated; as far as the contents of the letter, as I told xmag, that is one of the mysteries of the story, and will be revealed in Chapter 6, which I am currently working on... I'm going on your lists? THANKS!

NOTE: Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know what you think. 


	3. Chapter Three

**Title: **Veritas Amo

**Author: **Rosa di Corte

**Category: **Romance/Mystery

**Pairing: **Draco/Ginny, Ginny/Draco

**Summary: **Amidst the Second War, in a changing world, two people – Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy – find themselves; and each other... D/G

**Spoilers: **Books 1-5; Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them; Quidditch Through the Ages

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, and Warner Bros., among others. Only the plot and any unfamiliar characters are mine.

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**  
  
Draco groaned softly as the morning sun hit his eyes. He wondered vaguely where his bed hangings had gone as he squinted slightly and turned to bury his face in the smooth encasing of his pillow. It had taken too long for sleep to claim him the night before, considering he had not slept for almost thirty hours previously. But his thoughts had been plagued by the same worries that had haunted him since the arrival of his mother's letter. This time, however, they were joined by an image of one very annoying little Weaslette.  
  
He was rudely interrupted from his attempt to slumber by a pillow that had been thrown at his back. He did not have to turn to identify the culprit: only one person in Slytherin was bold enough – or stupid enough – to throw anything at him.  
  
"Go away, Blaise," he mumbled into his pillow. He had sneaking suspicion that his friend may have had something to do with his missing bed hangings.  
  
"Get out of bed, Draco," his friend returned sternly. "Today is the last day of classes before the holidays." When Draco still refused to rise, he coaxed, "You can sleep all through the break." He heard Blaise sigh, then heard his footstep leave the room and fade away. Draco carefully opened one eye to see that he was now alone in the room. He pulled himself out of bed, noting absently that his drapes were not missing, but had simply been pulled back.  
  
Forty-five minutes later, a very well-groomed, though irate, Draco Malfoy entered the Great Hall for breakfast. He stalked directly over to the spot reserved for him at the Slytherin table, between Blaise and Pansy, who were already seated. He nodded to those he – or his father – considered worthy of acknowledgement as he took his seat, and then proceeded to help himself to a large cup of coffee. He noticed Pansy eye him curiously for a few moments, but she said nothing as he cast her a pointed look. Blaise remained wisely quiet as well. Delilah Windholm, however, did not seem to have gotten the message to steer clear of Draco that morning.  
  
"Draco, darling," she cooed, placing herself directly across from him, squeezing in between a grumbling Crabbe and an obviously annoyed Goyle. "I missed you last night," she continued suggestively, as he felt her foot travel up his calf under the table. He controlled his reflexes enough to keep from jumping at the unexpected physical contact. He was in no mood for her this morning.  
  
"Delilah," he said in a strained drawl, that she obviously misinterpreted as being from pleasure instead of aggravation, as she smirked seductively. "Perhaps it would be best if we finished this later," he said meaningfully, ready to do just about anything to rid himself of this headache at the moment.  
  
She nodded, understanding, and stood. "Until then, baby," she reached over and pecked his lips with a small kiss, before leaving to sit with the other fifth year Slytherin girls.  
  
"Until then, baby," Pansy drawled in his ear, mocking the younger girl.  
  
"Enough, Pansy," Draco sneered, though it was weak in his apparent state of distress. She simply smirked before returning to her breakfast.  
  
Draco had to stop himself from rubbing his face in frustration – an awkward habit and sign of weakness that no Malfoy could afford to show in public. He really could not wait for this day to be over. He quickly surveyed the room, and sneered when his eyes landed on Gryffindor's heroic trio. He looked away quickly, though not before noticing that the littlest Weasley was absent. He then proceeded to mentally slap himself for noting on the whereabouts of a Weasley. Draco quickly drained the rest of his coffee, and stood; he reasoned that the sooner the day 'began,' the sooner it could end. Pansy and Blaise had already finished their meals, so they joined him in heading to their first class. 

.

.

While, unknown to Ginny, Malfoy, Parkinson, and Blaise sat through their last Ancient Runes class before the holidays, the fifth year Gryffindor was trying valiantly to stay awake in History of Magic. After a restless night, and an early morning spent evading the Dream Team, she was exhausted. Last night her lack of sleep had not been due to Voldemort or the Chamber. Instead, her own guilt at having caused the pain she saw in Hermione's eyes played a large part in keeping her awake until sunrise. She really was too soft, she scolded herself. Yet she could not help it – she was not frozen enough inside to enjoy the pain of others; excluding Voldemort, of course, whose cruelty and lack of conscience had been the cause of so much death and destruction.  
  
She was more hesitant to identify the other factor of her sleepless night: a particular blond ferret.  
  
Ginny let out a silent sigh and repositioned herself so that her posture was not conducive to sleeping. Professor Binns was lecturing about some goblin rebellion or other, and she struggled for the next ninety minutes with her drooping eyelids. Finally, the ghost professor seemed to have wrapped up his lecture, and he announced that there would be an assignment due a week after the Monday that they returned to classes following break. He continued to speak over the groans of the few students who were awake enough to have understood what he had said.  
  
"I have decided to tell you about the assignment now, so that those of you staying at Hogwarts over the holidays may use the library to complete this essay early over break." Ginny sat up slightly and poised her quill to take down the assignment. "I expect three feet of parchment," he continued in his monotonous tone as the groans grew louder, "detailing the livelihood and achievements of any great wizard or witch from the Middle Ages. Obvious choices would be Merlin or Morgan Le Fay, from the earlier Middle Ages, or any of the four Hogwarts founders or the twelve founders of the original Wizards' Council, from the later Middle Ages." Ginny saw Theresa Kensington give a smug smile and lean over to whisper to the other two Gryffindor girls in the class. "These are all acceptable choices, but you are encouraged to choose a lesser known magical person." The bell rang then and class was dismissed.  
  
Ginny made her way to a surprisingly uneventful Care of Magical Creatures, and then headed back to the Great Hall for lunch with Colin. The two had avoided discussing what had transpired in the common room after their return, as Colin knew that Ginny would come to him to talk when she was ready. Lunch was strained: Colin and Ginny sat with Neville, only a few seats away from Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Ron had a reddish tinge the whole meal, and Hermione and Harry seemed to be keeping him from saying anything. Poor Neville did not understand the tension, but tried to make the best of the situation by babbling on about the coming holidays, and keeping silence at bay by questioning nearby students of their plans. After that, afternoon classes breezed by, and before Ginny knew it, evening had come, and most students were excitedly packing their trunks to take with them on the Hogwarts Express the next morning. Hoping to avoid the Gryffindor trio and her giggling dorm mates, Ginny decided to take a short trip down to the lake before dinner. As she walked the powdered grounds by the iced lake, bundled up in her ratty second hand robes and cloak, protected by the strongest warming charm she could conjure on herself, she could not keep her thoughts from returning to the night before.  
  
Perhaps she had been too harsh with Harry and Hermione. Perhaps it was only the trio's worry for her that caused them to treat her so badly.  
  
_And perhaps Draco Malfoy is really a cuddly little kneazle underneath that cold, hard exterior! _she thought sarcastically.  
  
It was ridiculous of her to make excuses for the actions of others. She admitted that her own behavior with Hermione may have been a bit extreme. Though, really, Ginny had only spoken the truth as it was portrayed to her.  
  
She was forced to file her internal diatribe away for another time when she heard footsteps crunching on the fresh snow. She turned, ready to greet Blaise, when a smooth drawl reached her ears, sending an unnatural flutter through her stomach.  
  
"Fancy meeting you here, Weaslette," Draco Malfoy smirked.  
  
"Malfoy," she nodded slightly, her eyes instantly wary. She sighed when he simply stood there, watching her, with that infuriating smirk of his still in place. "What are you doing out here?"  
  
He shrugged slightly, and raised a single pale brow. "What are you doing out here?" he returned the question. Ginny rolled her eyes, then answered with a shrug of her own, though not as graceful as the older boy's. "I simply came out to enjoy the weather," he said sarcastically.  
  
"It's freezing out here," she replied tersely.  
  
"Oh?" he looked amused. "Are you cold now?" She scowled at him. "Great thing, _magic_," he shook his head slightly at her feigned ignorance.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ginny was already sleep-deprived because of this boy, but his presence now was simply irritating her. At least, that was what she assumed that fizzling feeling, making its way through her system due to his closeness, was: irritation.  
  
"Manners, Little Weasel," Malfoy tutted mockingly. He took a step towards her, and Ginny had to stop herself from taking an instinctive step back. She remained un-moving as he bent down to whisper in her ear, reminiscent of the previous night. "Is this how you treat all the lads who save you from a night's detention in the dungeons" he questioned, "or am I just special?"  
  
Ginny took a deep breath – trying to ignore how his scent made her slightly dizzy – and turned her head slightly to give her response. "You're just special," she answered, forcing a sarcastic tone, layered with mock sweetness. Malfoy stiffened, and backed away from her. He then turned to make a swift exit back to the castle, but not before sending her one last sneer. Ginny released a sigh of relief as Malfoy's form drew further from her sight. His closeness had wreaked havoc on her senses, and she spent the next ten minutes staring out onto the frozen surface of the lake, trying to gather herself enough to go in and face what was surely waiting for her at dinner.

.

.

Draco strode quickly over to the Slytherin table and took his seat. His face was a calm mask, but behind his silver steel eyes was a good amount of anger, annoyance, and confusion. He ignored Pansy and Blaise, who simply raised a dark eyebrow and turned away from the Slytherin Prince, as he filled his plate half-heartedly for dinner. As he ate sparingly – a Malfoy does not 'pick at his food' – he thought over his earlier interaction with the Weasley girl.  
  
He had been on his way to the Great Hall from meeting with McGonagall regarding a Transfiguration assignment due after the break, when he had looked out of one of the hall windows to see the little red head walking towards the lake. His decision to follow her had been impulsive, much like his ridiculous act of kindness the night before in Snape's dungeon. He still blamed that action on his lack of sleep, ignoring the little jolt he felt inside, when he remembered the surprised look she had directed his way; usually, her eyes were filled with anger, malice, annoyance, or some other negative emotion when she looked at him, but last night, those had been absent. He refused to evaluate why her opinions of him should affect him in any way.  
  
He had stepped out into the cold unthinkingly, casting a quick warming charm, before making his way up behind where she had stopped by the lake. When she had first turned, his breath had almost been knocked out of him by the light he saw in her eyes. She must have been expecting someone else, though – _Probably Blaise_, he thought bitterly – since her eyes had become immediately guarded, and degrees cooler, when she had realized it was him. He had been so angry that the happiness had left her gaze that he tried to provoke her. A plan which, he admitted now, had failed remarkably. When he had felt her hot breath on the side of his face, it had almost been his undoing. And so he had found himself – a Slytherin, a Malfoy, a _Black _– retreating once more; all because of one little girl.  
  
The same little girl that had just entered the hall, and was now making her way to sit with Camera Boy – Draco made a mental note to learn his name – and Longbottom at the Gryffindor table. Draco focused one of his most intense glares on the girl that had kept him from sleep the night before, and had stirred such turmoil within him during the waking hours.  
  
"Draco," Blaise tried to get his friend's attention. He followed the blond boy's gaze, and smirked slightly when he identified the source of Draco's troubles. "You know," he began, amusement coloring his tone, "she won't burst into flames simply because you will it." He held back a chuckle as Draco turned his deadly gaze from the Weasley girl onto Blaise. "You should know by now that that look does not work on me. I was simply saying that concentrating so much focus on the girl, through a death glare from across the hall, will accomplish nothing."  
  
"So what should I do? Go over to the Gryffindor table, where she has an army to protect her, and force her into a duel?" he asked in mock- seriousness.  
  
"Or perhaps a more Slytherin approach?" At his friend's raised eyebrow, Draco scowled.  
  
"Are you saying that you would be... _supportive _of any plans I make to put the little trollop in her place?" Draco questioned carefully, as he knew she was a friend of Blaise's, or at least a close acquaintance.  
  
Blaise paused for a moment, seeming to think the situation over. Then, with an eerily satisfied smile that Draco should have been very wary of – and would have been if he had not been so distracted by watching the smallest weasel turn red as her brother gestured wildly while speaking beside her – Blaise nodded.  
  
"Good," Draco said curtly, and quickly left the hall, having watched his target exit only moments before. His attention was focused on catching the little brat, so he did not see the satisfied smirk on Blaise's face, or the curious look that Pansy shot at her dark-haired friend.  
  
"Draco," he was stopped by a sultry voice on his way to confronting the youngest Weasley. He paused, annoyed, to face Delilah Windholm.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, in a patient tone that his breeding required in such situations.  
  
"Well," she smiled seductively as she stepped closer to him, "I'm leaving in the morning, and you did say that we would get together later. And this is _later_," she giggled. Draco was not fooled. Delilah was as cruel and conniving as the next Slytherin. He knew the 'bubbly temptress' was simply an act she played to get what she wanted.  
  
"Not now," he answered, turning and looking to his right, and then left, to ascertain where the red head had gone.  
  
The little smile was wiped off of Delilah's face as she stepped over to place herself in front of him once more. "Yes, _now_, Draco," she said, the frigidness in her voice matching the coldness of her eyes. Draco looked down at the girl, seething at her audacity in telling him – _him! _– what to do. Her assumption that they would be together just because _she _wanted it was one that he would have to eradicate... eventually. He glanced up and down the hallway once more, and, upon finding no trace of Ginny Weasley, he made his decision. He smirked at the fifth-year girl before him, before leading her back to the Slytherin Common Room, and then up to his dorm. She seemed pleased with her success, with the power she thought she held over the Malfoy heir. He would let her believe what she wanted for now. As they took part in the ritual they had practiced many times before, Draco let his mind wander. And this time, when flashes of a small red head invaded his mind, he did not try to force the images away. He would deal with Ginny Weasley later. And he would make sure that Delilah Windholm never forgot the true power of Draco Malfoy.

.

.

Ginny was hidden in a corner of the Astronomy Tower when Blaise finally found her a few hours after dinner.  
  
"What happened?" he questioned, obviously knowing that something was bothering her.  
  
Ginny did not turn or say anything in acknowledgement, but she scooted over slightly to allow him room to sit beside her. There was silence for a few minutes, but it was far from uncomfortable.  
  
And then Ginny began to speak.  
  
She started with her family, and their over-protectiveness. She told him about her first year, and how that experience had just supported her family's belief that she would always need to be taken care of. She left out the fact that Tom Riddle bore a striking resemblance to her friend, as the tale alone was upsetting enough. And then she spoke about the D.A., and what had happened at the Department of Mysteries. She spent a good amount of time letting out her feelings about her exclusion the previous summer, while being careful to keep any details of the Order she _did _know – such as the location of its headquarters – out of her story. And then she went on to describe what had transpired the night before, as well as the confrontation that had occurred at the Gryffindor table over dinner, earlier that evening.  
  
Ron had come out of nowhere, it seemed. She had been expecting to face the Dream Team when she first arrived at dinner, but as they had been peculiarly absent, she had enjoyed the company of Neville and Colin. Ginny had been talking quietly with the two Gryffindor boys regarding nothing of consequence, when her brother had barreled over to her, sans Harry and Hermione. He had called her a selfish brat, among other things, and angrily told her that she had had no right to say what she had to his two best friends. He had then proceeded to list her faults, beginning with her mistake first year. Thankfully, he had not been yelling this time, but enough of the Gryffindor table heard what he said about her setting the basilisk loose on the students – a fact which had been kept very quiet from the rest of the school. She had felt her face flush in hurt and anger, as she turned to look at her fellow Gryffindors. They were looking at her as though she had just been declared Voldemort's heir, which very well may have been how they interpreted the information. She could not sit there a moment longer, under their accusing gazes, and had stood to rush out of the Great Hall, leaving a still fuming Ron with an even angrier Colin Creevey.  
  
Blaise listened to what she said, voicing no judgments. When she had finished, a new silence descended upon them. Ginny was slightly worried now. She wondered if it had been wise to confide in the older boy. They had always steered clear of topics such as their families and Voldemort.  
  
Finally, Blaise broke the silence. "I see now why Creevey sent me to find you." The comment seemed directed more at himself than to her.  
  
Ginny looked over at Blaise for the first time that night. "Was he okay?" she questioned. She had already confided in Colin, Luna, and Neville about Riddle and the diary, but being reminded of his petrification by the basilisk in first year always got to Colin.  
  
Blaise shrugged slightly. "He seemed more angry than upset when I spoke with him. That Ravenclaw you hang around – Lovegood – she was trying to stop him from going to hex Weasley." He paused for a moment, then added, "Personally, knowing what I know now, I'm tempted to do more than hex the bastard." He smiled at her slightly as he heard her sigh in relief. "What," he asked teasingly, "did you think I'd stop spending time with you because you were manipulated by an older dark wizard when you were _eleven_?"  
  
Ginny tried to return his smile, but failed. So she settled for leaning on her strong friend. "You should have seen the way the other Gryffindors looked at me, Blaise." She sniffled a bit, as the memory assaulted her, and he wrapped his arm around her in a comforting embrace. "They think I'm evil, I saw it in their eyes."  
  
"They're _Gryffindors_, Ginny. They think everyone who isn't just like them is _evil_," he finished gently, though she definitely caught traces of sarcasm in his voice.  
  
"You know," she admitted hesitantly, "the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, before I insisted that I was meant to be a Gryffindor. It was even seriously considering Ravenclaw before it gave in to my pleading and put me where my brothers were." Her face was almost buried in his chest, so she did not see the look of surprise pass swiftly across his face, or the unreadable emotion in his eyes that lingered long after the look had passed. "I wonder sometimes – okay, a lot of times," she corrected with no prodding, "if I really would have been better off in another house. At the time, the idea of being the first Weasley not sorted into Gryffindor was too terrifying. I mean, what would my parents have thought if I broke the tradition? But now," she admitted, still not looking up, "I think it would have been for the best." Her confession was followed by a beat of silence, before Blaise decided to share an admission of his own.  
  
"I was hoping to be in Ravenclaw, like my _Madrina_, my godmother," he said, tightening his grip on Ginny as she shifted closer into a more comfortable position. "But my family had their own expectations for me, much like yours did. The men of my family have been Slytherins for generations, back to Domenico Aurelio Zabini, one of the first students educated at Hogwarts. He was chosen to come here by Salazar Slytherin himself. After him, an endless number of Zabini Lords could cite Hogwarts, and Slytherin House, as their alma mater."  
  
"Will you be a Zabini Lord, Blaise?" Ginny questioned curiously. She really did not know much about the Lords of the Wizards' Council, and it would be fascinating to hear the history of the twelve founders from a direct descendent. Of course, she could probably have gone to Theresa Kensington, but Ginny wanted to be spared from having to endure the conceitedness of the girl.  
  
"No," he answered, and he did not sound the least bit disappointed. "The title – and all of the land, wealth, and responsibilities it entails – has always been passed down to the eldest son. My _Nonno_, or grandfather, is the current Lord of the House of Zabini, but my father had an elder brother, who had his own son before he died," he explained. "My cousin Dorian graduated a few years before I came to Hogwarts. He was a Slytherin, of course," he added unnecessarily.  
  
"Blaise," Ginny sat up, clearly excited about something. Blaise eyed her warily, slightly disconcerted by her swift change in attitude. "You have to help me with my History of Magic essay. We have to choose an important witch or wizard from the Middle Ages in wizarding history, and write a three-foot essay. Can you tell me about your ancestor?" she questioned eagerly. Blaise eyed her oddly for a moment, before nodding hesitantly.  
  
"If that is what you want," he stated, "I could help you over the holidays. You are still staying, right?" he questioned.  
  
"Of course I'm staying. There is no way I could spend the next two weeks anywhere near Ron!" Blaise frowned slightly, clearly regretting having brought the topic up, when her happiness visibly diminished at the reminder of what had happened at dinner.  
  
"Come on, _'Lina_," he stood, then offered his hand to help her up. "Let's go see if the house elves have any more of that chocolate cake left," he suggested with a mischievous smirk. Ginny laughed lightly at his obvious addiction as they made their way out of the Astronomy Tower and toward the kitchens.

.

.

Draco considered his reflection in the mirror. It was Christmas morning, and he had already opened all of his presents – his mother had outdone herself this year to apologize for his having to stay at school. But he truly did not mind having had to stay at the castle: The first few days of the break had passed uneventfully. Draco had watched two morning ago as the carriages made their way from the school towards Hogsmeade Station, where the students would board the Hogwarts Express back to King's Cross Station. He had then spent the rest of that day doing some of his holiday schoolwork, practicing quidditch and playing chess with Blaise. Yesterday had gone much the same as well, although he had sent his gifts to his mother with his eagle owl Aries in the morning.  
  
He quickly ran his fingers through the loose, soft strands of his hair, and brushed the front of his casual black robes to rid it of any microscopic lint. He then turned to head down to the common room to meet Blaise and go for a walk on the grounds. The boys made a quick stop at the kitchens for some coffee and scones, and then continued out of the castle after the light meal.  
  
"Shall we play a round of quidditch later?" Blaise asked.  
  
"Sure," came the unenthusiastic response. At his friend's arched eyebrow, Draco elaborated. "Perhaps if we had a few more players..." he trailed off as a white blur crashed into the side of Blaise's head. The two Slytherins stood perfectly still for a few moments, snow dripping down the taller boy's face, before both turned face the culprit, who turned out to be a little red head who was obviously struggling to hold back laughter. She looked up at the boys, and Draco saw amusement turn to excited fright as she turned and began to run. He barely had time to register what had happened, when Blaise took off after the younger girl, a nice big snowball in his hands. Draco watched as the much taller Blaise easily caught up with the young Gryffindor and attempted to pummel her with his ill-formed weapon. Ginny Weasley had apparently been in a lot of snowball fights, however, as she expertly dodged the attack, and turned to flee once more. But Blaise proved to be too fast and too strong for her, as he overcame her and they tumbled to the ground.  
  
Draco leisurely made his way over to the pair, ignoring the unusual feeling that was growing inside of him at seeing one of his best mates so close to this girl that still haunted his nights. He approached them just as Blaise was helping the now-snow-covered Weasley off of the ground. As she looked up at him, he was satisfied to note – as much as he tried to deny it – that the excitement and happiness did not desert her eyes.  
  
"Weasley," he said in quite a civil tone, "is there something you needed, or do you make it a habit of throwing things at unsuspecting civilians?"  
  
She rolled her eyes at his formal stance, and replied, "Colin and I were having snowball fight when I spotted Blaise," she turned to the dark- haired boy then and gave him a sweet smile that caused that unusual feeling growing inside of Draco to peak up, "and decided to invite him to play."  
  
"And what an invitation it was," Blaise stated wryly, though the amusement in his eyes was clearly showing. "Where is Creevey anyway?" he questioned, looking around a bit. Ginny shrugged slightly, but a spatter of snow hitting her in the stomach answered that question. She let out a little squeal and pulled Blaise to stand in front of her as a shield.  
  
"So," she asked urgently, "are you guys in or out?" Draco kept his surprise at her including him in her invitation from showing on his face, but he was sure Blaise saw it anyway. His friend gave him a questioning look, to which Draco answered with a slight shrug, before he was shoved roughly into the snow by his smirking housemate. As Draco looked up in shock, Blaise gathered some more snow in his hands and took off, presumably to go attack this 'Creevey' person. Creevey... hmm... and then it clicked – _Camera Boy! _So that was his name...  
  
He was kept from pondering this discovery for too long by a tap on his shoulder. "Are you just going to lie there all day, or do you plan on actually getting Blaise back for his little stunt?" the littlest Weasley questioned with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. He studied the girl for a moment, in her old cloak, and with her hair pulled back. Her face was flushed from her running, and her eyes were so bright that the gold flecks were prominent. She raised an eyebrow when it took him more than a minute to respond, and smirked slightly as he shook his head to clear it of the image of her amused face. She offered her gloved hand to him to help him up, and, after a moment's consideration, he accepted the assistance. He ignored the tingle he felt, even through the thick wool and dragon-hide, at being in physical contact with the girl.  
  
He turned to ask her where he could find Blaise, when she hit him with a snowball she had apparently been hiding behind her back with her other hand. He stood, stunned for moment, before sending her one of his best glares. She simply shrugged and gave him a small smile.  
  
"What did you expect me to do when you offer such a tempting stationary target?" She must have seen the calculating glint in his eyes, for she then immediately turned and ran off again. Draco gathered some snow in his hands, forming a packed ball, before running off after the girl.  
  
This, he decided, was war.

.

.

"Did you have to use your wand to send twenty snowballs at me at once?" Blaise complained as he, Malfoy, Colin, and Ginny sat down for some hot chocolate in front of the fireplace in the kitchens.  
  
"Yes," came Malfoy's simple response to Blaise's lament. He smirked as Blaise cast a few drying charms on his clothes and hair.  
  
Ginny held back a giggle at the memory of Blaise, the human snowman. The morning had been more fun than she had expected. After opening her Birthday/Christmas presents from her family and friends – and Harry and Hermione – she and Colin had left Gryffindor Tower and gone straight onto the grounds for a snowball fight. Blaise and Malfoy's arrival on the scene had been an unexpected, but pleasant surprise.  
  
"Quit whining, Blaise," she interrupted humorously. "If anyone here should be complaining, it's me," she looked pointedly at her older friend, who grinned unrepentantly at the reminder of him burying the small red head in the snow bank with the help of Colin. Surprisingly, it had been Malfoy who had helped her out, claiming that it was done out of self-preservation – he did not want to be the focus of the boys' schemed attacks with the absence of Ginny.  
  
"You didn't complain, Gin, but you definitely got even," Colin said, rubbing his shoulder, where Ginny had sent quite a memorable snowball after being rescued from the snow bank. He simply pouted when she smiled at him. "Dennis is a much easier target," he muttered.  
  
"Yes, well then you can go and find Dennis if you'd like." At his horrified look, she giggled.  
  
"Who is Dennis?" questioned Malfoy.  
  
"My brother," Colin answered. "He's a third year, and he's usually not so bad to hang around, but..." he trailed off, looking to Ginny for the correct phrasing.  
  
"But his little girlfriend stayed for the holidays as well," she supplied, "and Colin and I have found her to be very..." here she turned back to Colin for the correct term.  
  
"Hyper-active." He shook his head slightly. "I swear, she's worse than the Energizer Bunny." He looked up to see three blank faces. "Never mind," he said, "it's a muggle thing."  
  
Ginny shrugged slightly. "She's really not so bad," she added. "She just never shuts up, and can run around for hours without getting tired. Like yesterday, when we played quidditch," she offered as an example, "we were out there for four hours, racing around in the cold, and she was still jumping around when we were ready to land. There was no way we were going to go up against that little terror in a snowball fight – we'd be out there until nightfall!"  
  
"You played quidditch yesterday? When?" Blaise asked.  
  
"Um, sometime in the afternoon," Ginny looked to Colin, who nodded in confirmation.  
  
"Draco and I were out there in the morning." He paused, then looked to Malfoy, before continuing. "Actually, we were thinking about playing this afternoon, but preferred having a few more players. Are you interested?"  
  
Colin and Ginny shared a quick glance before Ginny answered for them. "Sure, why not?" Blaise looked truly pleased, while Malfoy's face was the usual unemotional mask. "Well, we'd better get back to Gryffindor to get ready for lunch. We'll see you in the Great Hall?" At Blaise's nod, Ginny smiled, and she and Colin got up to leave.

.

.

As Draco changed for the lunch feast, into a dressier pair of black robes, over his black pants and Slytherin-green jumper, his mind drifted to the events of the morning. Loathe though he was to admit it, he had had fun. The littlest weasel and her friend had been entertaining company. And he had kept his snide comments to himself, which had been extremely difficult at Creevey's mention of that muggle rabbit. He could see why Blaise liked the Weaslette so much – when she was away from the Gryffindor Dream Team, she showed herself to be an intelligent and fun-loving girl.  
  
Draco sneered then; she was still a _Weasley_, and muggle-loving trash. Just because he may not approve of Voldemort's plans of genocide, did not mean he felt that muggles were equals to wizards, or that muggle-borns should be at Hogwarts. With a renewed satisfaction – of both his appearance and his check on his beliefs – Draco left for the Great Hall. Blaise had already gone ahead, after complaining that Draco was too vain for his own good.  
  
Upon arriving for the Christmas feast, Draco found that there was only one table, set up in the middle of the vast room. The four house tables, as well as the Head table where the teachers usually dined, were all absent. Draco made his way over to where Blaise was seated, just beside the little weasel and across from some Ravenclaw fourth year. As he took his seat on the other side of Blaise, which happened to be next to the esteemed Potions professor, he looked over to where Weasley was seated. Creevey sat to her left, and across from them sat a younger boy whom Draco assumed to be Creevey's brother and a little blond girl. The little girl was squirming around in her seat, currently babbling to her boyfriend.  
  
"Happy Christmas, Mr. Malfoy." Draco looked up to find himself seated across from the Headmaster, one seat over. Dumbledore's eyes held their usual twinkle as he greeted his student.  
  
"Happy Christmas, Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall," he nodded to the elder witch seated directly across from him, "Professor Snape," he nodded to the wizard to his right. The professors returned his greetings. Snape leaned over slightly and spoke with Draco.  
  
"Mr. Zabini seems quite comfortable with young Ms. Weasley," he commented casually, but Draco saw the question in his raised eyebrow.  
  
"They have apparently become closer throughout the semester," he replied quietly. Draco quickly cast a glance at the pair in question, and saw that they were busy in conversation, before continuing. "Perhaps the usual presence of most of the Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses is why the relationship has not been so obviously displayed before."  
  
Professor Snape nodded, then smirked. "The Headmaster did not look the least bit surprised when Mr. Zabini seated himself next to Ms. Weasley and began to converse with her." Draco only shrugged slightly – Dumbledore seemed to always know what was going on in the castle. Draco wondered briefly if he knew about Narcissa's revelation from a few days prior. Probably, he decided.  
  
The tinkle of silverware on glass brought Draco's attention back to the table, as Dumbledore stood to address the teachers, and twenty or so students who had remained for the holidays. "My dear professors and students," he began, "it is my pleasure to wish you all Season's Greetings, and a Happy Christmas Day." He smiled as many at the table clapped politely, then continued on a graver note. "In the dark times that are upon us, it is important to remember and appreciate the family and friends that support us, even if they are not with us now," he seemed to directing that statement at the little Weasley, who Draco noted was looking back defiantly into Dumbledore's piercing eyes. "Also remember that Hogwarts will always be here; and united, we will prevail," he had turned his gaze to Draco for that last statement. "Enjoy the feast," he clapped his hands and a large variety of rich foods appeared on the table.  
  
Draco spent his time speaking with both Blaise and Professor Snape during the feast, and even exchanged a few pleasantries regarding his grades with Dumbledore, and his Transfiguration essay with McGonagall. The meal passed quickly, and, after a quick game of chess, Draco and Blaise found their way out onto the quidditch pitch with two younger Gryffindors. They didn't talk much, but started playing right away. They decided two against two – chasers only – would be the best option, so Draco and Blaise found themselves up against Weasley and Creevey. Draco had to admit that Weasley was good – he had seen her play chaser once before, in the Gryffindor - Slytherin match that had taken place last month, but had not really noticed how graceful she was while flying; he had been too busy looking for the snitch, which Potter had caught in the end, anyway. Creevey was alright as well, as he was another one of Gryffindor's chasers. Although Draco and Blaise were at a definite disadvantage – as Draco usually played seeker, while Blaise was used to playing keeper – they put up a good fight against the two Gryffindor team chasers. They lost, of course, but not by too much, which slightly eased the pain to their Slytherin pride.  
  
As they landed, the little weasel ran over to where Draco was standing next to Blaise, Creevey lagging along behind her. "Well," she breathed heavily from the exertion, "that was a good game." She smiled at them. "But you two really should stick to keeping and seeking," she scrunched up her nose a bit as she caught the quaffle Blaise threw at her head. "Touchy, touchy," she tsked, then laughed at Blaise's smirk. Draco could not help but notice how comfortable and natural the two were around each other. Blaise seemed so much... _happier_, and less stressed, when Weasley was around him. Draco forced down the bout of jealousy that was threatening to show itself and simply raised an eyebrow at the oblivious pair.  
  
"Good game." Creevey had finally arrived. "But I have to get back to Gryffindor Tower now; I promised Dennis some brother time."  
  
"What about his little girlfriend?" Blaise questioned, obviously amused. Creevey rolled his eyes and sighed.  
  
"Dennis guaranteed me that she would be otherwise occupied," he answered with a shrug.  
  
"What about you, Little One?" Blaise asked Weasley. Draco stifled his surprise at hearing the endearment – it did not sound particularly romantic. Perhaps they were only friends. _For now_, he amended as the little weasel rolled her eyes at the nickname.  
  
"I will be locked away in my room," she began dramatically, "reading," she finished decisively. "Hermione got me some books for Christmas" – Draco noticed she seemed upset about something at the reminder of the mudblood – "and I'm looking forward to reading them. But," she turned to Blaise, "I would really appreciate it if you could help me with my History of Magic essay tomorrow?"  
  
"We have a History of Magic essay?" Creevey asked, looking perplexed. "When was it assigned? When is it due?"  
  
"You were asleep when it was assigned, and it's not due until the week after classes start up again after the holidays," Weasley informed him, still looking to Blaise for a response to her request.  
  
Blaise seemed to be considering something, and he cast a glance at Draco, which made the blond boy very wary, before responding. "Sure, we could meet in the library tomorrow afternoon." Weasley's smile seemed to freeze when he continued, "Draco should come as well, as two of his ancestors were founders," but she quickly recovered and turned to Draco with a questioning look on her small face.  
  
Draco, after sending a pointed look informing Blaise that he would pay for this later – which his friend simply smirked at – nodded in confirmation. "I suppose we'll see you then." He didn't bother to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Weasley gave him a forced smile before saying goodbye and heading back to the castle with Creevey. As soon as they were out of sight, Draco turned on his housemate.  
  
"What the hell was that about?" he practically snarled. Blaise just chuckled a bit.  
  
"What?" he questioned, feigning innocence. "I thought you had some sort of revenge plotted for her, though I have no idea what it is she has done to you. I thought getting closer to her would help you," he said, with the air of one who was 'only trying to help.'  
  
Draco eyed his friend carefully. "I thought you liked her," he replied. "Why would you help me do anything to her?"  
  
Blaise laughed now – really laughed, which disturbed Draco slightly, for he had rarely heard the sound come from his friend before. "Oh, please, Draco," he scoffed, calming down slightly, "it's not as though you'll really be harming her in any way." At the blonde's pointed look, Blaise sobered quickly and continued. "A prank or two is fine, Draco; Ginny is really a good sport about those things, after having lived with those Weasley twins." He took one step toward the other boy. "But if you do anything to seriously harm her, nothing will save you from what I will do to you." Silver eyes clashed with gold as the two shared an intense face- off. Draco was the first to look away, smirking.  
  
"So you will not 'break the bond,' eh?" he questioned sardonically, referring to the conversation in the Slytherin common room they had had a few days before the beginning of the holidays. "Where do your loyalties lay, Blaise?" he spat. "With a muggle-lover?"  
  
"They do not lie with Voldemort, if that is what you are asking," came the decisive response. "But you already knew that, Draco. We have always disagreed on the topic of Death Eaters. The last time we spoke on the issue, you wanted to follow your father's footsteps, and I wanted to follow mine." Blaise paused then, studying his friend. "That's it, isn't it? That's what changed over the summer: you're not sure if you want to be a Death Eater anymore," he stated insightfully.  
  
Draco looked away from his friend. It was true – the doubts were plaguing him. He and Blaise had never agreed on the issue of following Voldemort and the Death Eaters, but the dark-haired boy was proud of his pureblood heritage, much like Draco, so the two had never focused too much attention on their difference of opinion regarding the Dark Lord. But then Voldemort had returned, and the issue had become much more substantial. "Does it matter whether or not I _want_ to be a Death Eater?" he finally asked vehemently. Then more quietly, "Does it matter that you don't? He is growing stronger in power, and the old families have to align themselves with one side or another again. Your uncle is gone, Blaise. So what happens now?"  
  
Draco looked back to his housemate when he heard no response. Blaise was looking past him, over to the lake. Keeping his eyes focused on the frozen surface of the water, he spoke carefully. "I don't know what happens now," he admitted softly. "Uncle Agostino joined the Death Eaters to save our family, to keep the House of Zabini safe from the Dark Lord's attacks. My grandfather is too old to go out on _muggle killing sprees_," he spat the phrase. "So now my father is considering getting that horrid mark tattooed on his arm." Blaise finally turned to look in Draco's eyes. "What am I supposed to do?"  
  
Draco shook his head sadly. "Hanging around a Weasley is definitely not going to help matters any."  
  
Blaise's eyes darkened. "Ginny is a pureblood. Aren't the Weasleys related to the Blacks?" he questioned.  
  
Draco scoffed. "Only by marriage, not by blood," he assured.  
  
"Still," Blaise continued, "she isn't like the other Gryffindors. If you gave her a fair chance, you would see that she's not so bad."  
  
"Perhaps," he conceded to appease his friend. Remembering the events of the day, he had to admit that Blaise was probably right about the girl. Quickly evaluating their current situation, he decided to let his curiosity get the best of him. "What _is _going on between you two? Professor Snape was quite surprised by how well you two got along, although Dumbledore seemed quite pleased."  
  
Blaise would not meet his eyes as he responded. "We are friends," was the only thing he said. Draco was tempted to further interrogate him when Blaise shifted and began to walk back towards the castle. "We'll be late for dinner if we don't hurry," he called back. Draco followed a bit behind him, processing and filing away the encounter they had just had to evaluate at a later time.

.

.

The next afternoon found Ginny, Colin, Blaise, and Malfoy sharing a table in the back of the library. They were the only patrons present in the old room at the time, and Madame Pince was doing some cataloguing in her office.  
  
"Alright," Ginny said, quill poised over a fresh sheet of parchment. "Tell me about your ancestors: the founders of the Wizards' Council, the men behind the titles." Ginny seemed satisfied with that essay heading, and scratched it onto the paper. She looked up when no one spoke, and faced Blaise's questioning, yet amused, gaze.  
  
"What do you want to know, Weaslette?" Malfoy asked, looking like he would rather be anywhere else at the moment than helping a Gryffindor.  
  
"Starting with the basic facts would be good," she said, patiently ignoring the urge to throw a hex at the blond prat. "Who, what, when, where, why..."  
  
Blaise, obviously hoping to ease the tension that seemed to be growing between Malfoy and Ginny, began to tell some of what he had learned on the topic of the founders from his family. "We know that Hogwarts was the first wizarding school built in Europe, over a thousand years ago, by Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor, and Helga Hufflepuff. The four Hogwarts founders searched throughout Europe for young witches and wizards to bring to educate at their school. Salazar Slytherin found my ancestor, Domenico Aurelio Zabini, on the Italian coast..." Blaise went on to describe his ancestor's career after graduating Hogwarts: forming the governmental body known as the Wizards' Council with eleven other Hogwarts graduates; the group worked to bring together a more cohesive world for wizard-kind, began the construction of Diagon Alley, and fostered a tool of mass communication – truly connecting wizards scattered across the continent – through the earliest version of a wizarding newspaper.  
  
There were many other movements for progress in constructing the wizarding world made by the founders. Colin and Ginny listened – rarely taking notes – to the rich early annals of the society they lived in. When Blaise came to what seemed to be the conclusion of his history lesson, Malfoy decided to remind them of his presence.  
  
"As you have heard, the Lords of the Wizards' Council all worked together to create a world for magical people away from the persecuting muggles of the time, despite which Hogwarts founder they studied under." Ginny frowned slightly as he continued. "Each Lord maintained a province of land, the people of which he was both responsible for, and representative of in the Council. That tradition was passed on for generations before the installment of the current Ministry of Magic." Malfoy stood then, to gather his things. Blaise arched a dark brow at his friend, which the blonde studiously ignored. "If that is all, this afternoon has proven to be incredibly redundant." He sneered slightly as he turned and stalked out of the library, his shoulders set. Ginny saw the flash of concern and confusion in Blaise's eyes as he watched Malfoy leave.  
  
Ginny turned to look down at their mostly blank scroll, then looked to Colin. "Well," her housemate began, clearing his throat slightly, "we only have to write about one of them, right?" he asked Ginny. At her nod, he continued, "But we're probably going to need more personal information on the particular founder, if we want to fill three feet."  
  
Ginny understood the dilemma and stood. "Blaise, you tell Colin about your ancestor, okay?" she asked her older friend, who looked a bit uncertain. "I will go hunt down Malfoy and get him to help. Don't worry about me," she cut in as both boys started to protest. She noticed that both seemed a bit uncomfortable at being left alone together, without her, though Blaise hid it quite well. She smiled slightly. "You two will be fine without me here," she rolled her eyes, slightly exasperated by the hesitation she could sense coming from both of them. "I'll see you later," and with that, she strode off purposely in search of a blond ferret. She did not see Colin's light blush, or Blaise's slightly nervous smirk, as she exited the library, leaving the two to their own devices.

.

.

Draco stormed into the Slytherin common room, frightening the little first year that had stayed behind for the holidays as well. He climbed the stairs to his dorm, and slammed the door shut behind him, before throwing himself unceremoniously onto his bed.  
  
The topic in the library had touched much too close to the problems he was facing at hand. He had sat through as much as he could stand, and he found the general history of the Wizards' Council bearable. But he did not want to go into the particular roles of his ancestors, into the origins of the great Houses of Malfoy and Black. Draco let out a sigh of frustration he would never let anyone else hear, and flipped over onto his back.  
  
Most of the afternoon hadn't been too bad, he admitted. He had spent a good majority of the time in the library covertly studying Ginny Weasley. She had listened so intently while Blaise spoke, her eyes riveted to his face. He could see her thirst for knowledge being quenched in her open features. It was obvious her feelings for his best mate were strong; he could see that in the way she looked at him. But a nagging feeling at the back of his head told him not to assume anything about their relationship. His more logical, Slytherin-controlled mind told him the answer was in front of him, and he just seemed to be refusing to accept it.  
  
Draco sat up quickly, refusing to continue thinking of the little Weasley brat in the manner he had been for too long now. He slowly pulled out the last of his homework – an essay on the Patronus charm for Flitwick – and got to work, pushing thoughts of a particular red head far to the back of his mind.

.

.

Ginny had searched all over the castle for Malfoy, but couldn't seem to find Ferret Boy anywhere. As she neared her starting point of the library once more, she concluded that the older boy must have retreated to the sanctuary of the Slytherin dungeons.  
  
"Ms. Weasley," she was startled out of her internal tirade at the cowardly blonde by a familiar, wizened voice. "How, may I ask, are your holidays proceeding?" Professor Dumbledore smiled down at the young girl.  
  
"Professor, hello," she returned the smile, covering her surprise quickly. "The holidays are going very well, sir, although I definitely missed Mum's special rum cake yesterday." The headmaster chuckled slightly at this admission.  
  
"Yes," he agreed, "Molly does make a mean dessert." He studied her for a moment before continuing, "Your family missed you yesterday; actually, much of the Order did," he said quietly.  
  
Ginny did not really know what to say to this statement, as she did not believe it, so she forced a smile and said as pleasantly as she could, "I highly doubt they even noticed my absence, Professor, but that was kind of you to say."  
  
Dumbledore continued to smile slightly at her, if not a bit sadly, before speaking again. "It is always difficult to watch our loved ones be placed in danger," he said quietly. "You are a very lucky girl to have so many who love you, and wish to keep you out of harm's way."  
  
Ginny took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, greatest sorcerer of the age, and the only wizard that You-Know-Who was afraid of – it would not do to yell at or try to hex such a person. "With all due respect, Professor, I thought that each witch and wizard is a culmination of their choices. That is how we grow, learn, and develop into productive members of society. Am I not to be granted the natural right to choose my own path, to make my own mistakes, and my own successes? I'm sorry if I seem offensive, Professor, but you and I both know that my family's insistence on keeping me 'out of harm's way' is more for their benefit than mine." She looked directly into the old wizard's eyes now, breathing slightly heavily from having rushed out her passionate words. "While I appreciate their regard for my safety, I deplore the use of that regard as an excuse to keep me from helping a cause that I believe in. I would do whatever I had to, to bring the Dark Lord down. And I will," she said decisively, "whether the Order of the Phoenix will have me or not."  
  
Dumbledore returned her intense gaze with a piercing look of his own, until Ginny had to turn away from the sheer power the man possessed behind those usually twinkling blue orbs. He sighed slightly then, an indication of how tired he must be. She figured he probably thought he was too old to be running around fighting Voldemort at his age. "Ms. Weasley," he said, bringing her attention back to their present discussion, "when the time is right, I am sure you will make an invaluable addition to the Order." Ginny's eyebrows rose in surprise at his solemn statement. He smiled then, eyes twinkling once more, and changed the topic. "I recently came across Mr. Creevey working with Mr. Zabini in the library," he hinted his interest and approval of the inter-house cooperation.  
  
Ginny nodded, relieved that the earlier issue was no longer being discussed. "Yes, Blaise and Malfoy were helping Colin and me with our History of Magic essay on a witch or wizard from the Middle Ages." She couldn't be sure, but she thought she had seen a flash of surprise cross the older wizard's face at the mention of Malfoy. "Blaise is telling Colin about his ancestor, one of the founders of the Wizards' Council, and I _was _trying to find Malfoy to drill him on his ancestors, but I think he has retreated back to the dungeons." She shrugged slightly in acceptance of her predicament.  
  
"Ah, witches and wizards of the Middle Ages," Dumbledore nodded, seeming to approve of the topic. "Much more fascinating than the goblin rebellions Professor Binns has always insisted on focusing on," he shared an amused look with his student. "Now, for me personally, the sorcerers of the earlier Middle Ages have always held interest. Tales of Merlin, and the tempting enchantress who stole his heart, were the stories my mother told when I was a young boy," his eyes were distant, reminiscing.  
  
Ginny considered this for a moment. Choosing another witch or wizard would save her the trouble of hunting down Malfoy, and actually asking him for the favor of helping her. Her Weasley pride balked at the idea of her turning to a Malfoy for any reason. "Perhaps I will study one of the earlier sorcerers of the era, Professor. Thanks," she smiled at the great wizard before her, knowing that, generations from now, schoolchildren would be writing essays on him; that is, if they weren't already. He seemed to come back to himself at the sound of her voice, and gave her a benign grin.  
  
"Well you had better get to work then, Ms. Weasley," he turned to go. "I shall not keep a young mind from seeking out knowledge." Ginny watched him leave, and then made her way back to the library, hoping to catch Colin and Blaise.

.

.

Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall when the owls arrived. The original tables had been returned that morning, as the rest of the students would be arriving back from break in two days' time. The holidays had passed quickly, and the blonde now found himself nursing a coffee, after imbibing in too much alcohol the night before, in celebration of the New Year. He ignored Aries, when the owl landed next to him carrying the _Daily Prophet_. So Blaise relieved the bird of its burden, before feeding it some of his toast. The clatter of fallen silverware, and the hush descending the large room, caused Draco to look up from the entrancing steam of his hot drink. Blaise was perfectly still, his face an emotionless mask as he read the story on the front cover. But Draco noted that his friend had definitely lost a few shades of color. He quickly glanced around to see that all of the students were huddled around different copies of the morning paper, and that most of the teachers were missing from the Head Table, including Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall.  
  
Draco tensed when he looked back to find Blaise's intense golden eyes locked on him, as he silently handed him the newspaper. Draco took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he knew was most likely on the front page. He looked down to find exactly what he had expected, what he had known would happen eventually. And as he read the lead article, he found that he had not been ready for this day at all.

.

.

Ginny heaved all of the contents of her stomach into the toilet, in the last stall at the far end of the first floor girls' bathroom. Granted, there had not been much in her stomach anyway, as her breakfast had been interrupted early on by the arrival of the owls with the _Daily Prophet_. She sighed then, sitting back against the stall door, curling herself into a little ball, wishing reality were not so harsh. In the stall beside her, Moaning Myrtle was being eerily quiet.  
  
The Death Eaters who had been captured at the Department of Mysteries, near the end of Ginny's fourth year, had escaped. But that, in itself, was not too shocking a revelation. Really, everyone had expected it happen – well, everyone who knew how vulnerable Azkaban was after the desertion of the Dementors.  
  
No, it was what Voldemort and his Death Eaters had done after the not- so-spectacular New Year's Eve escape.  
  
Attacks on muggle-borns and their families.  
  
Attacks on Hogwarts students who had gone home for the holidays.  
  
Ginny crawled back to the toilet to retch again, but only released dry heaves, as she had nothing inside her left to purge. And when she realized this, the tears she had been so valiantly trying to hold back came in full force. She turned a bit, resting her head on the cool surface of the stall wall, as her body was racked with sobs.  
  
It was almost too much to bear, thinking about what had happened. How had her family survived this the first time around? How had the wizards and witches that lived twenty years ago, during the First War, gone on each day, knowing that an evil wizard with no conscience, and his willing followers, were killing people for sport, for their prejudicial cause?  
  
She had thought she knew the cruelty of Voldemort through her encounter with Tom Riddle's diary. She had thought she understood what Voldemort's return to power meant for the wizarding world, when she had raised her glass in memory of Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory. She had thought the war had seemed real when Sirius had fallen through the veil, one of the first casualties of these now dark times that she had known on a somewhat personal basis.  
  
But none of that had prepared her for the truth.  
  
_She had had no idea.  
  
_ The Second War had begun, and the wizarding world reeked of the stench of death. And no one – old, young, pureblood, half-blood, muggle-born – could escape its nauseating reach.  
  
"Ginny?" came Colin's tentative voice. She could tell by the hoarseness that he was trying not to cry. Ginny flushed the remains of her ill- received breakfast away, and stood slowly, taking large calming breaths to try and stem the flow of tears. She opened the stall door to find Colin peeking in the entrance of the bathroom. When he caught sight of her, her face streaked with the salty wetness of tears and blotchy from her crying, he stepped into the room and simply held out his arms slightly – an invitation to share in the comfort he could hopefully give her. She rushed into his arms, grateful for his solid form, grounding her.  
  
She did not realize that he was just as grateful to have her there, keeping him from toppling over into the dark abyss.

* * *

Author's Notes:

seph78: Thanks for reviewing... I try to stay within the HP Universe created by JKR and to keep characters believable; I hope you continue to find this work within HP context...  
  
nebber: Thanks so much for such a complimentary review... Ginny is great, isn't she? This is pretty much how I have come to picture her in my head, especially her interaction with the trio; as for the length, I myself am a fan of long chapters as well, so I thought I would treat my readers... I hope you continue to enjoy the story...  
  
Hplova4eva: Short and sweet... thanks so much for the review: it definitely encourages me to keep writing...  
  
Shan: Thanks for the review... So you like the Blaise and Ginny dynamic? Great! Keep reading, it gets better... (I hope, at least...)  
  
Insane-SparklingPoet: Can I just begin by saying how much I love your username? Well, I do... Thanks so much for your review – it totally made me smile... I'm going on your "Fav Authors" list? That is so sweet! Thanks! As for where I get my ideas, I am a child of the media – I grew up saturated with different TV shows and movies, as well as an endless supply of books: there are so many different random thoughts and notions in my head from all kinds of sources... Anyway, I hope you continue to read and enjoy the story...  
  
Monique: Thanks so much for your review... I hope I have continued to succeed with the smooth transitions (although I have a few doubts with the above chapter...); do you think the plot is being rushed? Please let me know, cuz I really want this story to turn out well, and if I need to slow the action down a bit, I think it is do-able... Thanks for the constructive criticism, and I hope you continue to find the story well-written and enjoyable...  
  
Erika Skyfire: Thanks so much for making an exception with my story... I know exactly how you feel about stories with few chapters (at one point I refused to read any story that was incomplete: obviously, that did not last long...); Thanks for the review, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story...  
  
xmag: So glad to hear from you again! Yes, Zabini's involvement has only been partially explained – there is more, but you will have to wait to read about it:)... I agree that the Dream Team needs to see that Ginny is not a child, but that is a thought that has been ingrained in their minds for so long (evidenced by the scene in Book 5 where Ginny needs to convince them to let her go to the MoM with them); I am not sure if that one event was enough to prove to them that she was no longer a child incapable of defending herself, but don't worry, they will understand eventually (at least, I hope...)... As for charges of Zabini's "hypocrisy," I am not sure if that term is so correct: Blaise is worried about Draco because he has seen that something has been troubling his friend, and he wishes to help him; Draco's interest in Blaise's relationship with Ginny originally has more to do with his disapproval of his housemate associating with a Gryffindor Weasley – and later with jealousy – than any "concern" for his friend... Did that just make any sense? Let me know what you think, and thank you so much for your review...  
  
karen1: Thanks so much for the review... I have to admit I was thrilled to have Ginny tell off the trio – they so had it coming... I'll keep posting, if you keep reading...  
  
Pori-Chan: Thanks so much for reviewing... The pendant will come up at a later time – you were actually the only reviewer to mention it, but I'm glad that it caught your attention... As for the "witches Draco's Mother was talking about," I am uncertain as to what you mean; Narcissa spoke with Draco regarding the original twelve Lords of the Wizards' Council, who used the magic in the elements surrounding them to create the secret and separate wizarding world that exists in the story today: I hope that clears some things up, but let me know if you have any other questions... Please continue to read and enjoy...  
  
SarkLover: Sark, eh? Hmm... he does have a nice accent... ANYWAY, thanks so much for your review: I'm glad you like Blaise, and, yes, Draco is confusing – but he is also very confused himself...  
  
Athena Linborn: Your review was just so sweet! Thank you so much – it totally lifted my spirits to read what you had say about my story... I was actually struggling to write Chapter 6 when your review popped up in my Inbox, and I must say, my determination to produce a well-constructed and polished chapter increased ten-fold... I hope that I do not disappoint in further chapters... Please continue to read and review: I look forward to hearing from you...

NOTE: Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know what you think. 


	4. Chapter Four

**Title: **Veritas Amo

**Author: **Rosa di Corte

**Category: **Romance/Mystery

**Pairing: **Draco/Ginny, Ginny/Draco

**Summary: **Amidst the Second War, in a changing world, two people – Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy – find themselves; and each other... D/G

**Spoilers: **Books 1-5; Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them; Quidditch Through the Ages

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, and Warner Bros., among others. Only the plot and any unfamiliar characters are mine.

* * *

**Sidenote: **If any DG shippers are interested, I have posted a song-fic to Hoobastank's "The Reason" (completely unrelated to this story) on Fanfiction.Net. Please check it out let me know what you think. Enjoy Chapter 4 of _Veritas Amo_!

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**  
  
Hogwarts was once again teeming with pupils as early as that afternoon. Owls had been sent out early in the morning, before the arrival of the newspaper, instructing students who had gone home for the holiday to return to the safety of the castle, and the protection of Dumbledore. Ron, Harry, and Hermione had been one of first to arrive, having taken a portkey directly back from Grimmauld Place. They had immediately shut themselves off in the boys' room, doing gods only knew what. Ginny had left soon after noticing the looks she was receiving from the other returning students. It appeared that they had not forgotten Ron's little revelation before the holidays. And as Colin and Dennis had been called away by McGonagall, she did not want to test the restraints of her emotionally-worn housemates alone.  
  
So Ginny currently found herself wandering around the castle, avoiding the more well-traveled corridors. She let her mind wander as her body automatically stayed in motion.  
  
There had been so much death, and now there was so much despair.  
  
Seven families...  
  
Seven families and ten Hogwarts students; tortured, and either killed or left permanently damaged, all for Voldemort's sick satisfaction: the Tates; the Newmans; the Langs; the Tsusoukis; the Finch-Fletchleys; the Nolsens; and the Thomases...  
  
Perhaps there had been more: The _Daily Prophet _– which seemed to be making up for its blunder last year in not believing Harry when he had said that Voldemort had returned – had provided extensive, detailed coverage of the 'New Year's Massacre,' as the night's attacks were now referred to as. The newspaper had only named those families whose relatives inside the wizarding world had already been notified.  
  
Ginny recited the painful facts in her mind as she continued to walk aimlessly.  
  
Johanna Tate had been a third year Ravenclaw. Her mother had been a muggle, who had been both raped, and tortured with the Cruciatus curse before her death. Reports said that Johanna's wizard father had been made to watch the torture of his wife, before he himself was subjected to the killing curse. The body of the little girl had been found in her closet, where she must have attempted to hide from the attackers.  
  
Felicia Newman had been a seventh year Hufflepuff, and her younger brother Taylor, a fourth year Gryffindor. Their bodies, as well as the bodies of their muggle parents, had yet to be recovered from the charred remains of what used to be their home.  
  
Krista Lang and her twin brother Jacob had both been second year Hufflepuffs. They had had a younger brother, Andrew, who was a first year Ravenclaw. Apparently their muggle father had died of a disease called cancer two years before. But that did not stop the Death Eaters from killing them; nor did it spare their mother, a columnist for the _Daily Prophet_, or their four-year-old baby sister.  
  
Niren Tsusouki had been a seventh year Ravenclaw, but his brother Thalin had been a first year Gryffindor. Ginny now recalled the little boy, shyly asking the fifth year prefect where he could find the Transfiguration classroom, only months before at the beginning of the school year. He was dead now, as were his muggle mother and wizard father. The older boy, Niren, would be a permanent resident of St. Mungo's.  
  
Justin Finch-Fletchley was a Hufflepuff. Though he had been visiting his best friend, Ernie Macmillan, when the Death Eaters attacked – thereby escaping death – his muggle parents had been slaughtered.  
  
Amanda Nolsen had been a fifth year Gryffindor, and Ginny had known the girl since her first year. She, as well as her muggle mother, father, sister, and brother had all been killed. Each one had been tortured with a different curse.  
  
And Dean Thomas... Dean Thomas had been a Gryffindor sixth year, a huge football fan, and Ginny's ex-boyfriend. His muggle parents were locked away in some mental institution now, having gone crazy from the repeated casting of the Cruciatus curse, as well as from having had to watch their son be tortured before his eventual murder.  
  
Ginny stumbled slightly, and had to stop her travels, suddenly feeling so _tired_. She leaned against the wall to her right, and felt the cool stone. She looked up, taking in her dim surroundings, and realized that she had wandered into the dungeons.  
  
A part of her felt a great desire to seek out the Slytherin common room, to find Blaise. She needed someone to hold her right now.  
  
Fleetingly, an image of a pale-faced blonde passed through her mind, but it left as quickly as it had come. Ginny mentally scoffed at even the passing notion that Draco Malfoy could be a comfort to her at this moment. Or at any time, really. But remnants of the image stayed with her as she attempted to trace her steps back, and out of the lower levels of the school.  
  
She had been walking for about ten minutes, still unsure as to where exactly in the dungeons she was, when she heard voices. Ginny stiffened, pressing her back against the wall –as there seemed to be no adequate place to hide – and nervously fingered her wand. As the owners of the voices drew closer to where she stood, tensely hugging the cold stones, Ginny recognized one of the speakers. She relaxed slightly, and drew away from the wall to face the students who would be turning around the corner in a few moments.

.

.

Draco and Blaise had been walking back from a quick trip outside on the grounds, to the Slytherin common rooms, when they saw her. She stood with her back poised, and her chin held high, but even in the dim torch light of the dungeons, Draco could see the pain and confusion in her dark coffee-colored eyes.  
  
"Blaise, Malfoy," she nodded in greeting to each of them, though Draco had more than a hunch that, had he not been present, such a formal and detached greeting would not have been delivered. Draco, too tired and concerned with other matters to go into his usual Weasley-trashing mode, simply nodded in return.  
  
"_'Lina_," came Blaise's smooth tones. Draco saw her smile slightly, and he had to keep himself from punching a wall... or his best mate. He knew that she would never allow him to comfort her, or make her happy, the way Blaise seemed to be able to do with only a word. _And that wasn't even her name!  
  
_ He did not stop to think _why _he would want to offer such comfort in the first place.  
  
This time.  
  
Blaise turned to Draco then, slightly raising an eyebrow. Draco understood the request, nodded curtly to the red head before him, and stalked off back to his common room.  
  
He was seething by the time he entered the green and silver room. Though, if asked, he would not be able explain the origin of his anger. Too much had happened in the past twenty-four hours, and all of it was swimming around in his head, stirring emotions he had long sought to keep buried. Blaise's interaction with the little Weasley was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.  
  
Why was he reacting this way? For years he had waited and hoped for the Dark Lord to rid their world of muggle-borns and half-bloods. When Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff pureblood, had been killed by Voldemort at the end of Draco's fourth year, he had been overjoyed. He had begged his father that summer to let him get the mark early, instead of having to wait until after his Hogwarts graduation. Lucius Malfoy had denied him his request, but proudly told his son that when the time was right, he _would _take his place beside his father as a Death Eater.  
  
Then, one year later, his father had been sentenced to time in Azkaban. And after one summer spent alone with his mother, he was having doubts regarding whether the path leading to death and destruction at the hands of Voldemort was the right one. Were the vicious means employed by the Death Eaters justified by their noble end goal of a pure wizarding world, untainted by muggles? Draco was no longer certain. Only one year ago, he would have rejoiced at the news of a massacre of the proportions of the one that had taken place the night before. But now, he could not rouse within him satisfaction at the deaths of those people, whose only crime had been not being born of the correct breeding.  
  
"Draco," a light touch on his arm roused him from his internal conflicts. "I wondered where you wandered off to. I returned an hour ago, and we simply must catch up," Pansy simpered a bit. Draco knew this was only for the benefit of the other students lounging in the common room. He understood from the message in her eyes, behind her nonchalant words, that she had been worried about him, and she wanted to speak with him alone.  
  
"Draco can catch up with you later," came another feminine voice. Delilah Windholm sashayed over to the pair and placed a possessive hand on his other arm, sending Pansy a warning glare. Draco had to fight to keep himself from cringing at the younger girl's touch. How had he ever put up with her? "Drakey," she cooed, leaning forward. "Isn't it wonderful... these fools are finally beginning to understand the power of the Dark Lord." She smirked then. "Soon all will bow down to him, and we will be right by his side." Draco felt slightly sick at her obvious pleasure over the deaths of their schoolmates and their families, but he kept his features blank and his eyes cold. He forced a weak smirk, and gave Pansy a look, indicating that they would have to talk later. She scowled slightly, but nodded curtly, before sending a potent glare in Delilah's direction and making her way back over to where Millicent Bulstrode and Regina Moon were whispering in hushed tones.  
  
"Delilah," Draco said in a frigid voice, "when the Dark Lord does ascend to power," here he forced himself not to shudder at the notion, as his mind firmly repeated the word _if _– not when – "I assure you that my _position _will in no way be of your concern." He allowed a small sneer to grace his handsome face. She looked taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered with a sneer of her own.  
  
"Drakey, _darling_," she stepped closer to him, lifting herself on her toes to whisper in his ear, "perhaps we should take this somewhere more private?" He pulled a way a bit to see her sneer replaced with a suspiciously placid smile. Draco simply turned and made his way up the stairs to his dorm, while Delilah followed.  
  
Once the door to the room he shared with Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott had been closed, he swiftly grabbed the younger girl and threw her against the nearest wall. She should not have pushed him in such a way. She should not have tried to manipulate him when he had other, more important, matters to deal with. He had known he would have to remind her of her place, but he had not expected to do so at a time when his emotions – usually well-hidden and buried deep within him – were in such a turmoil, cracking his customarily cool demeanor. His silver eyes darkened as he glared at Delilah, who was trying to wriggle out of his strong-hold on her. She had almost reached her wand when he summoned it to him with his own. He was about a head taller than her, and could easily overpower her physically without the use of magic. He leaned against her, pinning her body against the wall with his own lean, toned form. Her face was beginning to take on an unattractive reddish shade as his one-handed grip on her throat tightened.  
  
"Windholm." She shivered, his voice was so cold. "I do believe that you have forgotten your place..." he raised one eyebrow amusedly. "Do you want me to take the time to remind you that I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, and the sole heir to the noble line of the House of Malfoy?" He pushed even closer, but there was nothing sexual in the movement – his threatening demeanor had been cultivated by Lucius Malfoy himself, and it was nothing to be trifled with. "Or are you starting to understand just who I am?" He looked at her face to see that she was trying valiantly not to show any weakness, but the terror in her eyes betrayed her. Draco felt satisfaction come over him at the power he held over her. But that satisfaction was short-lived, as he was hit with the realization that this type of power, was exactly why the Death Eaters took such joy in carrying out the 'cleansing' of the wizarding world.  
  
Draco stepped back, slightly sickened, but he took care to ensure that Delilah Windholm saw none of this, for it would be perceived as a weakness and would be used against him. He sneered at her then. "Run along now, Windholm. I have no more use for our little arrangement." He smirked at her evilly as he opened the door, located a bit to the left of her still form, and motioned with one hand for her to take her leave. "Your services are no longer required here."  
  
He saw her eyes harden with loathing as she walked slowly out of the room. She was showing her defiance by taking her time. He had to admit that he had underestimated her nerve... or her stupidity – no one in the house wanted Draco as an enemy. He was their Prince, and she would realize that. She turned back once at the landing of the stairwell, reaching out her hand, open palm facing up. He negligently tossed her wand back to her, and gave her a mockingly sweet smile. She returned his smile with a hateful look, before turning away and disappearing downstairs into the common room.  
  
Draco silently let out a sigh as he closed the dorm room door. In the back of his mind, he knew he would have to be careful of her – he could tell she had started plotting against him from the moment he had released her. She was a Slytherin, after all. Draco ambled over to his bed, graceful even in his emotionally exhausted state of being, as he laid himself on his bed.  
  
He believed that purebloods were better than muggle-borns and half- bloods, and that the Nobles were the most superior; that was true. He enjoyed wielding power, was a master manipulator, and would go to any lengths to get what he wanted; this was true as well. He was a Slytherin, through and through. But did that mean he was meant to be a Death Eater?  
  
It had thrilled him to see Delilah Windholm bending to his will. But the fear in her eyes did not give him the usual gratification. Something within him had changed, shifted. Was this what it meant to intellectually mature? Just a few weeks ago, he had been ready to revel in Ginny Weasley's apparent fear of him during their encounter at the entrance of the library. Now, the thought of the red head looking at him with the same terror in her eyes, as had been in Windholm's a few minutes before, upset his already sensitive stomach, and forced a cringe that Draco could not hide.  
  
The world around him was changing. _He _was changing. And he did not know where to go from here...

.

.

Ginny leaned into Blaise as he held her comfortingly. She was not crying now. No, she did not think she had the tears left for it. She was empty, and her housemates' treatment of her had left her feeling so alone. She could tell that Blaise had been livid when he learned of their reaction towards her – not by anything he had said, but by how silent he had become, and how fiercely angry his golden eyes had looked.  
  
Ginny sighed and lifted her head up to look at her dear friend. She loved this boy, she knew. Not in the romantic sense, of course. In fact, Ginny was quite sure that Blaise was not interested in her, or any other girl, in _that _way. She was not daft, no matter what the Dream Team thought of her. She had seen the way Blaise's eyes would soften ever so slightly, with a hint of... _hunger_, when Colin was around. When he looked at her, they held a similar softness, and there was something else in the golden orbs that she just could not identify, but it was definitely not the passion he seemed to feel where Colin was concerned. She also most certainly had not missed Colin's own longing looks towards her dark-haired friend. One day – perhaps not soon – but one day, they would no longer be ignorant of the other's interest. For now, she was content to be the bridge that allowed their friendship to grow. She loved them both, really, as she loved her brothers. But it was also different from that familial love, because they were her friends – she chose to associate with them. She did not get to choose her brothers, for if she had, she thought scornfully now, Ron would have been dropped off of the list ages ago. Her choice in the matter made these relationships that much more precious.  
  
"Better, _'Lina_?" Blaise asked her in a quiet, gentle voice. She was in awe that this boy – almost a man – could be so sweet to her, and yet be feared for his dangerous coldness to others throughout the school. She gave him a little smirk – a bad habit that she had picked up from spending too much time with the older boy – and nodded her head slightly.  
  
"I had better get back to Gryffindor Tower," she returned, just as quietly. "I need to see if Colin is back from his meeting with McGonagall." She was sure he could hear the worry in her tone.  
  
"I am sure that Creevey is fine," he assured her, but she could see the concern behind his wary eyes as well. Ginny just shrugged slightly, and rose from her place beside him in a corner of the kitchens, near the fireplace where, only last week, they had enjoyed hot chocolate after an innocent snowball fight. She realized now that the time of innocence was over.  
  
"I'll see you later?" she questioned, as he rose up as well, standing to his full height to tower over her 5'2" frame. He gave her a small smile, and leaned down to brush his lips over her forehead.  
  
"Of course," he said, as he backed away. She returned his smile, and they turned to make their way out of the kitchens, where the house elves seemed to be hard at work making dinner. They parted ways outside of the entrance, as he turned left to head to the dungeons, and she right, to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
The walk back to her common room went more quickly than Ginny would have liked – she could not be sure that Colin and Dennis had returned from McGonagall's office, and she had not seen Neville return from his stay with his grandmother earlier. She did not want to face her angry and quick-to- judge housemates alone.  
  
Ginny took a deep breath when she reached the entrance to the common room, and exhaled slowly as the Fat Lady watched on curiously. When she felt prepared, she mumbled the password and entered Gryffindor Tower. Her arrival was a quiet one, so she did not initially gain that much attention. But those that had noticed her stopped what they were doing to glare hatefully in her direction, causing others to then notice her presence as well. Ginny quickly scanned the room for one of her friends – Neville or Colin, or even the Dream Team would have done – but none of them were present.  
  
She was brought startlingly out of her desperate search by the loud noise of skin hitting against skin. Her eyes watered as she felt a pain in her left cheek. She looked up to see an angry and crying Parvati Patil standing over her with a hateful sneer that would not have been out of place on a Slytherin face. But this Gryffindor wore it well as she stepped threateningly toward the younger girl.  
  
"You little bitch," Parvati bit out through her tears of rage. Ginny was still stunned by the slap she had received from the sixth year, so she stood still as the dark-haired girl drew even closer. "How dare you show your face around here?" Ginny could see, out of the corner of her eye, others nodding in agreement with the distraught girl. She held back her tears – she would _not _let them see her cry. "You don't belong in Gryffindor. You should be dead and Dean should be alive!" Ginny's head snapped up then, and her eyes narrowed as she buried all of the pain and fostered the mounting rage. But Parvati continued on, undeterred. "You are a jealous little whore! He dumped you for me, so you went and got your master to kill him for you!" She was shouting by now.  
  
Ginny took a step back as she reeled from the older girl's words. It was true that Dean and she had broken up early in the semester because of his interest in the older girl. Ginny, at the time, had been certain that the only 'interest' he had had in Parvati had to do more with the _assets _she had developed over the summer than with the girl herself. While Ginny had never thought of Parvati as a bad person, she did find her a bit ditzy, a bit flaky, and _very _self-involved. But Dean and Ginny had never been too serious – she had liked the boy, but had really felt nothing more than friendly affection. When she mourned for his loss, she mourned for the boy who had told her jokes to make her laugh, who bored her with details of the muggle sport football, and who had very softly and very sweetly given her a kiss good-bye before they had boarded the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of last summer. How could anyone think that she had wished him dead? How could they all stand there and judge her based on events they did not understand – events that had scarred her, of which she still had nightmares about?  
  
Ginny realized that everyone in the room seemed to believe the worst of her, as she saw them all watching the scene with what she could only define as satisfaction. She quickly noted that her surviving roommates, Theresa Kensington and Kari Wong, were huddled together in a corner, watching the exchange near the portrait hole closely along with the others. She recalled how quick the students had been to turn on Harry Potter, when it was revealed that he was a Parselmouth. They had thought that he was the Heir of Slytherin, and shunned him. He was the Boy Who Lived, the hero of the wizarding world... she was only the littlest Weasley. It had been all but confirmed that she was Slytherin's heir, so what would they do to her? They had all been hurt – their friends, housemates, and classmates had been brutally murdered, and they needed someone to pay for the pain they were forced to endure.  
  
Ginny refused to be the one they turned their anger on any longer. Her own fury had reached its boiling point, and as she saw Parvati raise her hand to slap her again, Ginny raised her wand and cast a spell that she had learned in her first year.  
  
And as the screams of terror sounded around her, as the noble Gryffindors fell to their knees, Ginny simply turned and walked back out of the common room.

.

.

She was perched on a ledge in the Astronomy Tower when Colin found her, an hour later. As he took a seat beside her, Ginny was vaguely reminded of her encounter with Blaise, after Ron had opened his over-large gob and spilled her biggest secret to all of Gryffindor house.  
  
She looked at Colin now, this handsome boy who had changed so much from what he had been as an eleven-year-old. He looked back for a moment and smiled slightly. "That was quite a spell you used." He was upset, she could tell, but she did not think it was her actions that he was upset about.  
  
"Colin," she started tentatively.  
  
"How dare they treat you like that?" her friend cut in. His voice was quiet, but the anger in his tone was evident. "How dare they judge what they don't even understand? How could they think you would do anything like that? That you would want innocent people dead?"  
  
He was beginning to frighten her, with this calm rage of his.  
  
"Colin," she implored more firmly, "what happened with McGonagall?" He looked at her again, longer this time, and now she could see the pain and fear that he was trying to hide behind the anger he felt. Suddenly Ginny was very frightened. "What happened?" she repeated, a tense urgency tinting her voice.  
  
He shook his head slightly, and reached over to pull her into his arms. "The Death Eaters attacked my parents' house last night," he revealed quietly. He hugged her so tightly that she could barely breathe, but she did not care. Her friend was in pain, her comfort was not important right now, not in the face of this news.  
  
"Are they alright?" she asked in a muffled voice, her face buried in his chest. She stiffened slightly as he let out a hollow, bitter laugh.  
  
"My parents are alive," he answered shortly. "They were lucky enough to have gone out for the night with my aunt and uncle, who had come to stay for the holidays." Ginny turned her face up to him – there was something else, something he was not telling her. He looked down then, into her sad, inquiring eyes and sighed slightly, letting the tears fall. "They had left my little sister and my cousin – my aunt and uncle's son – at the house with a sitter." It was only another moment before he broke down completely, and Ginny repositioned herself to hold the boy in her arms, squeezing tightly and trying to will the pain away. She had never met his sister, but knew from the way Colin spoke of her that she was the sun, the moon, and the stars to him. She had been born shortly after Colin had come to Hogwarts, and he had confided in Ginny about feeling guilty for being away for so much of his sister's life. He had said that after he had finished school, he could make it up to her by staying with his parents for a year or two, before moving out on his own. From the sobs that racked his body, Ginny knew that his sister was dead now, and that there would be no later time to make up for what he had already missed. She could only pray that the little girl had not suffered torture at the hands of the Death Eaters before her murder.  
  
Ginny rubbed Colin's back with her hands, in an effort to soothe him. "I am so sorry, Colin." She realized that she did not even know what to say. How could anything she said or did possibly help now? "I'm here, Colin, and I am not going anywhere." He only held her tighter then. "I'm here..." she whispered as her own tears – ones she had been sure, only an hour ago, her empty vessel no longer contained – streamed down her paled cheeks.  
  
She was never sure how long they sat there, holding each other. She only knew that by the time they stirred, night had fallen upon the castle, and dinner had long since passed.  
  
"Come on," she said, gently tugging on his arm. "I think some tea would do us both some good." She saw Colin hesitate. "What is it?" she asked astutely, sensing that he had something else on his mind.  
  
"Dennis." He stated flatly, and Ginny could have cursed herself for having forgotten the young boy. He was only thirteen, he did not deserve to go through this. Actually, Ginny corrected herself, _no one _deserved this.  
  
"Is he alright?" she asked, the concern obvious in her tone. Colin simply shook his head 'no,' and took a deep breath.  
  
"He was so close to Jessica, and our cousin Seth, actually," he admitted quietly. "Seth was an only child, and the same age as Jess, so we just looked after him like a little brother, you know?" Colin, she could see, was fighting another torrent of tears. He took a moment, rigidly straightened his back, and then lifted his chin as he forced his emotions back. "Dennis really liked being the big brother," he shrugged. Ginny could see how Dennis would like looking after his little sister and cousin. Considering how he looked up to Colin, who was his big brother, she was not surprised by the fact that he would try to emulate him. "He thinks he failed them somehow." Colin looked so defeated. "He doesn't understand, that if anyone failed them, it was me."  
  
"Colin!" Ginny was appalled. He could not blame himself for this!  
  
"What, Ginny? It's the truth!" His cheeks were becoming flushed as he got into the argument. "I stayed here, safe and sound at Hogwarts, _knowing _the danger out there, while my family was attacked by dark wizards. How were they ever supposed to have protected themselves? I could have _done _something!"  
  
"Colin," she reached out a hand to touch his reddened cheek, but he pulled away before she could make contact. She retracted the hand and sighed quietly. "Colin, if you had been there, you would have _died_!" she tried to make him understand.  
  
"Then I would have died protecting my family," he returned resolutely. Ginny could not argue with that – it was what she would have preferred had she been in his position.  
  
"That's true." She would not patronize him by lying to him now. "But you were not there, and you are alive." She continued to speak, cutting off what looked to be a protest from him. "You are alive and here to fight another day." She stepped towards him, and this time he did not back away as she laid her soft hand on his cheek. "You have no reason to feel guilt, but if I can not sway your belief of that, then I ask you to please use whatever plagues you to help ensure that such senseless violence at the hands of You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters does not occur again."  
  
Colin studied her for a moment, before slightly nodding in assent. She forced a small smile for him, and lifted her hand from his cheek. He grabbed it before she could pull it back to herself, and she looked at him confusedly. "His name is Voldemort." He looked at her intently, willing her to say the word, to not give that creature power by fearing to say his name.  
  
Ginny hesitated slightly. It was different for Colin, who had only learned about Voldemort a few years ago, when he had found out that he was a wizard. She had known about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named her entire life, and she had been taught to fear him and his name for just as long. But, then again, to her knowledge, she had not lost any of her family to the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters; and Colin had just lost his little sister and cousin. She took a deep breath, and let the name that was feared throughout the wizarding world flow from her lips: "_Voldemort_."  
  
Colin released her hand and turned. "The kitchens, then?" he asked in an unemotional voice that caused Ginny to pause. She quickly recovered and followed her friend out of the Astronomy Tower. She could tell that the death of his sister had irrevocably changed him. The massacre of the night before had changed her as well. The world was going to Hades around them, and no one knew where this would all end...

.

.

Draco stared into his cup of tea and, despite the wretched hangover he had suffered from just that morning, wished for something stronger. He looked up to find that, across from him, Blaise and Pansy seemed to be contemplating the same thing.  
  
When Blaise had returned to the common room a few hours ago, he and Pansy had come up to haul Draco out of his melancholic musings, and his bed. After a strained and uneventful hour of pretending to be thrilled with the news of the Death Eaters' attacks among the other Slytherins, Draco had been dragged to the kitchens for tea. By the fact that they had all been nursing their tea for over an hour now, Draco concluded that he was not the only one who found the joyous atmosphere of the green and silver common room beyond stifling.  
  
They had not really said anything to each other. It seemed to be easier to avoid the glaringly obvious topic altogether. Finally, it seemed that Pansy could take the tense silence no longer.  
  
"Have you heard from your father yet, Draco?" Well, she was certainly direct. Draco's only response was to glare at her, to which she gulped slightly and turned away.  
  
"Well, have you?" Blaise was unaffected by Draco's look of death.  
  
"No," he returned shortly, not wanting to talk about this. He knew his father had been among the Death Eaters who had attacked those families last night. He most certainly did not want to speak to that man now. He wondered if Lucius had returned to the safety of Malfoy Manor, where he could be protected from searching aurors by the spells placed on the manor centuries ago by Malfoy Lords past. Draco was worried about his mother, if this was the case. Lucius could harm her – something Draco could not bear to have happen.  
  
He was saved from wandering down a mental path of fear regarding his mother's safety – as well as from any further questioning by Pansy and Blaise – by the entrance of two familiar fifth years. _This is beginning to become a habit, meeting in the kitchens_, Draco thought absent-mindedly. Then he smirked. Finally, here was something in this now-upside-down world that he could handle – predictable Gryffindors.  
  
Creevey and Weasley paused upon catching sight of the Slytherin trio. Both of their eyes were red and puffy – Draco could tell they had been crying. There also appeared to be a bruise forming on Weasley's left cheek. Something dark, deep within Draco, unfurled at the thought of anyone laying a hand on the girl. He almost snarled aloud at the thought of someone harming her, his already-tried emotional state leaving him vulnerable to these thoughts he would have dismissed as ridiculous only a few weeks ago. Trying to recover his role as the Prince of Slytherin, Draco pasted on a sneer, and before Blaise could say a word, greeted the newcomers.  
  
"Weasel, Mudblood," he drawled, with a nod to each. It happened so quickly, he had not even seen it coming. One moment Creevey had been standing beside the Weaslette, the next he was pinning Draco against one of the walls of the kitchens, gripping the Slytherin's neck with both his hands – an ironic twist after Draco's encounter with Windholm earlier. As his vision blurred from the loss of air, Draco vaguely made out Pansy and Blaise reaching for their wands, though Blaise seemed a bit hesitant. But it was Ginny Weasley who put a stop to the attack.  
  
"Colin, please," she said, struggling to tug the younger boy's hands away from the other's neck. "Colin, stop this right now. You won't be able to do anything against the Death Eaters if you're locked up in Azkaban! Draco Malfoy is not worth it!" She seemed to have finally gotten through to her friend, who released Draco and stepped away slowly. As Draco's lungs gratefully took in the plentiful oxygen, the little weasel's words rang over and over in his head. _Draco Malfoy is not worth it! Draco Malfoy is not worth it! Draco Malfoy is not worth it!  
_  
Hmph! What in Hades did she know, anyway? But that did nothing to ease the sudden pain he felt within him, and the heaviness of his heart. He looked up to find Creevey glaring at him with a hatred he had never seen in the boy's eyes before. Weasley was looking at him in anger as well. But there also seemed to be something else in her lightened eyes... Pain, sadness, and... _disappointment_? Had he disappointed her? Had she expected him to live up to her Gryffindoric values? Draco sneered at the thought. He was cut off from putting the little Gryffs in their rightful place – far below him – by Blaise's smooth voice.  
  
"Would you like to join us for tea?" he asked the two younger students. He was replied with four incredulous gazes. "Very well, then," he nodded. "Would you like to tell us what that was about, then?" he asked Creevey. "Draco's mouth has always tended to run afoul, but I have never seen such a violent reaction before," he commented casually, as one would on the weather.  
  
"No," came the curt reply, and, though he tried to hide it, Draco saw Blaise's slight flinch at the cold tone of the younger boy's voice, and the flash of pain in his golden eyes at the obvious rejection. Draco looked between the two young men, and finally the realization hit him. Blaise had never told him of his sexual preference, but he had never really been very interested in the girls around him. Draco had thought that Blaise had rejected the girls that had thrown themselves at him – and there were many – because he was not interested in flings. His association with Ginny Weasley seemed to support Draco's conclusion that Blaise was very serious about his romantic relationships. However, now he realized that he had had it all wrong. Blaise seemed to be interested in Colin Creevey, not Ginny Weasley. For some reason, this relieved Draco greatly. He looked over to the little red head to see that she had obviously been aware of the connection between her two good male friends. While she did not seem upset about the apparent romantic feelings between the two boys, she did seem quite distressed by Creevey's obvious snub of the dark-haired Slytherin.  
  
"Colin," she began tentatively.  
  
"Ginny." He cut her off, and gave her a pointed look, to which she just sighed sadly.  
  
"Where did you get that bruise?" Blaise seemed to have recovered from his slight heartbreak, and was now staring intently at the little Weasley's face. His golden eyes had darkened by degrees, and his voice had become frigid. She blushed slightly under his scrutiny, and looked away before answering.  
  
"It's nothing," she said quickly. At Blaise's insistent stare, she continued, "I took care of it." Draco could not remember ever having seen Blaise so angry before. From the look on Pansy's face, apparently neither had she.  
  
"Who hit you?" If his tone had been cold before, it was nothing compared to the barely contained iced fury that laced his voice now. Weasley glanced nervously around a bit, probably wishing for a house-elf to conveniently turn up and take the attention away from her, but none arrived, and none of the other three students present in the room dared to defy Blaise in the state he was in.  
  
"Blaise, umm... it's really not that important..." she trailed off as he swiftly moved towards her. Creevey stepped in front of the girl – no doubt to protect her from the 'big, bad Slytherin' – but one pointed glare from Blaise removed that obstacle.  
  
"Tell me." Draco could feel the power radiating from his friend. His burning rage was in danger of resulting in accidental magic if he was not careful. With the amount of anger he seemed to be withholding, Draco felt it would be safe to assume that the entire corridor was vulnerable to collapse if the magic was not contained. Apparently, the little weasel could feel it too, for she decided then to tell the truth.  
  
"The Gryffindors weren't too happy to see me," she said slowly. "Parvati Patil thinks I wanted Dean Thomas dead because he dumped me for her. She was simply letting out her anger," she tried to excuse the older girl's actions.  
  
Pansy scoffed. "How in Hades does that boy's death have anything to do with you – no matter whether you used to date him or not?" Draco's chest tightened a bit at the thought of Ginny – _Ginny? When had he started thinking of her as _Ginny_? _– with someone other than him. But then the idea of Ginny _with _him shook him up enough to thrust him out of this line of thought.  
  
"His death had nothing to do with her," Creevey answered. "A few of the Gryffindors, in their oh-so-noble ways, decided to take it upon themselves to blame the attacks on her, for something her idiot brother let slip right before the holidays." Creevey sounded incredibly scornful concerning his housemates.  
  
"What was it that the Weasel let slip?" Draco arched one pale eyebrow in intrigue as Blaise, Ginny, and Creevey all stiffened simultaneously. He exchanged a curious glance with Pansy, who had also noted the reaction, before continuing. "What could have turned the goody-goody Gryffs against one of their own?"  
  
"Enough, Draco." Blaise's rage had not decreased in the least. In fact, he only seemed to be growing more agitated now. Draco nodded slightly, willing to back off of the topic... for now. At this moment, he was most interested in easing his friend's fury.  
  
"That bitch Patil hit you?" At Ginny's hesitant nod to his question, Blaise stalked over the portrait hole leading out of the kitchens. Before he could even open the doorway – presumably to stalk up to Gryffindor Tower to put those good-for-nothing nobodies in their place – he was hit with a charm, cast by one angry looking Weasley.  
  
"Blaise," she started slowly, controlling the temper that was obviously rising, if the flush in her cheeks was any indication. "I appreciate that you are upset on my behalf, but as I told you, I have already taken care of it." She enunciated the last seven words slowly. Blaise turned to her, much more relaxed than he had been only a minute ago, and walked over to the small girl.  
  
"What did you do to me?" It appeared that not all of his rage had left him. Ginny simply shrugged a bit.  
  
"I cast a calming charm on you." At his glare, she defended her actions: "Well, how else was I supposed to get you to stop and actually listen to me?'' She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Although, I could have cast a _Stupefy_, and bound you to a chair before _Ennervat_ingyou to make you listen, or _Petrificus Totalis _would have worked as well..." her musings trailed off as Blaise sighed, and crossed his arms to show his concession to her view.  
  
"So what did you do to the little shits?" It was clear in his gaze that no punishment that he had not hand-delivered would be satisfying retribution for the Gryffindors' crimes.  
  
"I cast the _Arachnihasa _charm on everyone in the common room." Blaise's eyes widened slightly, while Pansy let out a light chuckle, and Draco stared in awe at the girl before him. The _Arachnihasa_ charm was a seventh level charm, which produced hundreds of spiders to completely cover the victims of the spell. The spiders were not poisonous, and did nothing but cause mental anguish to those on the receiving end. More than one victim of the spell had come out from the experience arachnaphobic. Also, the spell could not be stopped by a simple _Finite Incantantum_; the precise counter-curse had to be employed.  
  
Ginny smirked slightly, obviously pleased with their reactions to her revenge. "I learned the spell in my first year, one evening when I was especially irate with Ron." At the questioning looks from Blaise, Pansy, and Draco, she elaborated. "Spiders are his greatest fear." Draco had to suppress a smirk – this girl was amazing! He never knew she had it in her to be so... _Slytherin_.  
  
"You should have seen Harry, Hermione, and McGonagall trying to undo the charm on twelve hysterical students, while Ron cowered at the top of the stairs," Creevey cut in, obviously fond of the memory. Blaise looked sharply to Ginny, but said nothing.  
  
"Wait one moment," Pansy cut in. "You cast a NEWTs-level charm on twelve students at once?" That was an impressive feat for a fully-grown wizard; for a young witch, still in school, it was remarkable. Ginny just shrugged, and blushed slightly. Draco wondered, fleetingly, just how far down that blush traveled...  
  
"We should get going," Ginny said hastily, obviously not wanting to discuss her advanced magical ability. "We should probably find Dennis," she said to Creevey quietly. The light in the younger boy's eyes dimmed visibly at the reminder of his brother, for some reason, as Ginny grabbed his hand – Draco had to stop himself from attacking the Gryffindor boy right then and there – and they made their way out of the kitchens. Ginny turned back only once, to give a curt nod good-bye to Pansy and Draco, and share a long look with Blaise that Draco could not decipher. Creevey kept his head down, shoulders heavy, as he walked beside the petite red head.  
  
Once the portrait hole closed behind the two, the three Slytherins turned to each other.  
  
"I can see why you spend so much time with her, Blaise," Pansy drawled musingly. "I do believe I underestimated the little Weasley girl."  
  
Draco scoffed, attempting to convince himself that she was just muggle- loving trash. It was much easier for his mind to condemn her when she was not standing right in front of him, confusing him. "She's a _Weasley_," he pointed out, as though that was all there was to be said. Pansy simply rolled her eyes, while Blaise glared at him. Draco glared back at his dark- haired friend and said in mock-sweetness, "Need another calming charm, Blaise? You look a little tense." Draco smirked as Blaise scowled. The world had not changed so completely that he could not still properly rile up his best mate...

.

.

It was almost curfew by the time Colin and Ginny returned to the Gryffindor common room, decidedly none the worse for not having gotten any tea from the kitchens. Once again, the Dream Team had stayed up to interrogate them.  
  
"Ginevra Weasley!" Ron bellowed when he spotted her. Ginny saved Hermione the trouble by quickly casting the silencing charm herself this time. She did not put her wand away, but made sure that the Gryffindor trio saw it in her hand. Colin took his place beside her, his wand at the ready as well.  
  
"Oh, this is ridiculous," Hermione cried out. "Put those wands away," she directed to Ginny and Colin. "And Ron," she turned to the tall red head, "_shut up_. You're big mouth has already caused enough trouble," she said scathingly, glaring at the boy. Ginny was shocked at Hermione's angry tone against her own best friend. "How can we ever hope to have a chance against the Death Eaters if we are fighting amongst ourselves?"  
  
Ginny considered the question, and then slowly lowered her wand. Hermione was right. Whatever differences she had with the Dream Team, it was best to settle them now, before they all had to face the real dangers of the wizarding world together. She felt Colin lower his wand beside her as well. "I'm listening," was all she said. She was still angry with them, after all. She was just more willing to communicate with words now, rather than hexes.  
  
Hermione frowned slightly and looked to Harry, who stepped forward. Both of them elbowed Ron when he opened his mouth to – no doubt – yell at Ginny again.  
  
"A lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours, Ginny," Harry began quietly. She simply looked at him, her face blanked of all emotion – a clever guise she had picked up from her dear friend Blaise. He coughed, stumbling over his words slightly at her unresponsiveness. "But that does not excuse your actions earlier. What were you thinking, attacking other Gryffindors?" Ginny said nothing. "The war is raging outside of the castle walls," he continued on, undeterred. "You cannot act in such a manner against those on the same side. The danger is more real than it ever was before, and we" – here he gestured to Ron, Hermione, and himself – "_need_ to fight against these evils. You don't have that burden, Ginny. And we're only trying to protect you..." he trailed off as he saw her face redden with anger. Ginny opened her mouth to deliver a scathing reply, but she was cut off by Colin.  
  
"Does that include me, Potter?" he asked snidely. "Are you the only ones with reasons to fight?"  
  
Harry looked a bit taken aback by Colin's tone, and the use of only his last name. He shook his head slowly. "I never said that," he responded slowly.  
  
"No, but you are thinking it." Colin sneered at Harry, something Ginny would never get used to seeing. "You think that your pain is worth more than ours. You think that Ginny's possession by the younger Voldemort at the age of eleven – _something she still has nightmares about regularly_ – does not entitle her to the same rights as you, or your lackeys, to seek justice."  
  
The trio looked to Ginny in shock, as the younger girl avoided their scrutinizing gazes. There were reasons for her not telling them about her nightmares...  
  
"That just proves she shouldn't be messing with these dark things that she can't handle!" And that was the main one. Ron proved once again just how dense and predictable he could be. "What do you know, anyway, Creevey?" he blurted out, his face having turned maroon from having had to hold in his comments for so long. The trio obviously had not yet been informed of the attack on the Creevey residence...  
  
Colin raised his wand to teach Ron _exactly _'what he knew,' but did not bother casting a hex, as Ginny had beat him to it. Ron screamed as the spiders covered him completely, while Ginny stared on the scene coolly, unaffected by his terror. Hermione quickly and effectively cast the counter-curse, having gotten quite a bit of practice with it earlier that evening. She and Harry helped Ron up, who was trembling from the experience, and the three sixth years turned to Ginny, whose rage was now visible in her glinting honey eyes.  
  
"_How dare you_?" she bit out slowly, her fury lacing each word. "How dare you presume to have the authority to _judge _Colin or me?" She calmed slightly as Colin laced his fingers through hers, offering her his strong support. "You have no idea what you are talking about," she finished coldly.  
  
"You say you only want to protect her?" Colin asked, his anger evident. "Then where the hell were you when she was being attacked in her own common room?" Harry, Hermione, and Ron glanced at each other, then looked away shamefully. "I have a good idea where you were," he continued. "Locked away in a room somewhere, trying to solve all the problems of the world by yourselves." He glared at them. "You don't want to _protect _Ginny, you simply want her out of the way."  
  
Ginny kept her face blank. She knew all of this already, and she had accepted it. But to hear it stated so factually from her best friend hurt. She was not angry with Colin, though; only with herself, for still allowing the Dream Team to continue to affect her emotional state. Resolutely, she straightened her back, and faced her brother and his friends. "I have already taken it upon myself to keep away from the three of you and out of your business. The least you could do is return the same courtesy to me, and _stay out of my life_!" Her voice was not raised, but the tone was sharp, and the message clear. "We have already been over this – there is no reason for any of you now to _worry _about me," she sneered at the word 'worry.' "If this evening's events taught you nothing else, it should have made it clear that I can take care of myself. If I had to rely only on your _protection_, I probably would have died ages ago... You are after all the reason I was in danger earlier today in the first place!"  
  
"You would have died in the Chamber if it hadn't been for Harry and me!" Ron seemed to have regained a bit of his composure after the spider incident.  
  
Ginny scoffed. "Please," she replied scathingly, "you would have gone after anyone who was stuck in the Chamber. I think it's that hero complex of yours..." She looked at them accusingly. "Had you truly been worried about _me_, you would have noticed months before-hand that something was wrong; that I had stopped eating, that I wasn't sleeping well, and that I was constantly pale and sickly-looking! As it was, Percy was the only one – out of the _four brothers _at school with me – to notice that I was acting differently. Of course, he grossly misdiagnosed the cause, but it was nice to know that _he_, at least, cared. Unlike you, Ron, who were once my best friend, but couldn't look past your own interests for five minutes to see how your little sister was handling her first year away from home." Her eyes were bright and her voice frigid as she moved closer to her brother. "Your concern for me seems to come and go at your own whim. That does me no good, and I would prefer that either you care about my well-being all of the time – not just when it is _convenient _for you – or do as I asked, and stay away from me."  
  
She sent one last sneer towards the speechless trio, and pulled Colin along with their still-interlaced hands to the entrance to stairwell leading up to the boys' dormitories. She dragged Colin up and into the fifth year's dorm, and used her wand to 'convince' the other boys in the room to leave. Except for Dennis Creevey, who had apparently fallen asleep crying on Colin's bed. She released Colin's hand so he could go to his younger brother – the only sibling he had left now – while Ginny took a seat on what she assumed was Noah Van Clauspen's bed, for the dark-haired fifth year had been sleeping in it when she and Colin had entered the room. She watched as Colin lifted and shifted his brother over on the bed – taking care not to disturb his sleep and wake him – before laying down on his back next to him. He sighed quietly and turned his face towards Ginny.  
  
"I don't want to wake him, he needs rest," he whispered quietly. Ginny only nodded. Colin seemed to hesitate for a moment, before speaking again. "I'm sorry I told them about your nightmares," and he did truly seem to regret his slip. Ginny simply shook her head and smiled slightly to indicate that she was not upset with him. "Are you okay?" he asked tentatively. She only shrugged, and Colin seemed to look worried that she had yet to say anything to him since they had come upstairs.  
  
"I will be fine," she assured him quietly. She looked over to Dennis, who was now tossing fitfully in his sleep. She walked over slowly and cast a light calming charm, followed by the _Dormius_ charm – used to put receivers in a deep slumber – on the younger boy. "That should help him sleep through the night." Colin gave her a small, grateful smile, and pulled her down onto the bed. Ginny found herself half lying on the small bit of mattress left by Dennis and Colin, and half on Colin himself. While it was not the most comfortable position, she rearranged herself a bit to make it bearable. There was nothing romantic or sexual in the arrangement – it was only for comfort. She understood Colin's need not to be alone right now, so she laid her head on his chest, and quietly mouthed the _Dormius _charm once more. She listened to his heartbeat slow, and his breathing even, as he slowly drifted off.  
  
Ginny kept close vigil on the sleeping brothers, and only moved from her awkward position when the sun began to rise. She then lifted herself up, slowly and carefully so as not to disturb the boys, and stretched to soothe her stiff muscles. She walked over to their window, and looked upon a different scene than the one she was used to. She could not see the lake from this section of Gryffindor Tower, but she had a perfect view of the dark Forbidden Forest. Even from this distance, the trees looked foreboding. She shifted her gaze to Hagrid's hut, to dispel the uneasy feeling that the forest brought about in her, and saw smoke curling up from his chimney. She smiled at the thought of the half-giant, who had always been very sweet to her. She grew so lost in thought as she gazed unseeingly out onto the castle grounds that she did not notice Colin come up behind her.  
  
"Thanks," he said quietly, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. "You didn't have to stay."  
  
"I know I didn't have to stay, Colin," she chided gently. He released his arms and dropped them to his sides as she turned to face him. "I _chose _to stay because you are one of my best friends, and I love you," she said sincerely. He gave her a weak smile.  
  
"I love you, too, Gin," he whispered, bending his tall 6'2" frame to drop a small kiss on the top of her red head. She smiled softly in return as he pulled away, looking back to see his brother stirring. "You should go," he said quietly, returning his gaze to the small girl. "I think Dennis and I need some time alone." Ginny nodded, both in understanding and agreement, and – after one more quick hug – left the room. She arrived in the common room to see the other three fifth-year boys spread out on different couches, still sleeping. Thankfully, the Dream Team was nowhere in sight. Ginny swiftly made her way to her own dorm, her wand out just in case her roommates were awake. She entered the room quietly to find that the drapes of both girls' beds were closed. She looked sadly at Amanda Nolsen's bed, which still had her old stuffed teddy bear sitting on it. Ginny quickly gathered her things and decided this was a fine morning to take advantage of her position and use the Girls' Prefect's Bathroom.  
  
After taking her time with her morning ritual, and then getting dressed, Ginny banished most of her things straight back to her trunk – sending the laundry to the house elves – and then decided to visit the kitchens for a quick breakfast, before she had to hole herself up in the library to work on her History of Magic essay, which she had put off after the first meeting with Blaise and Malfoy in the library.  
  
Her plans were disrupted by one very irate Head of House.  
  
"Ms. Weasley," Professor McGonagall stated sternly. "Please come with me." Ginny swallowed the last bit of toast she had received from the kind house elves, and hung her head a bit as she followed the formidable witch. They stopped in front of a stone gargoyle, which Ginny recognized from listening in on conversations between Harry, Ron, and Hermione in previous years as the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Ginny was understandably nervous as she slowly climbed the spiral staircase, lagging a bit behind the Transfiguration Professor.  
  
Professor McGonagall knocked on the wooden door at the top of the stairs, and entered upon hearing Dumbedore's invitation. Ginny hesitantly followed her into the large, round office. She looked around a bit, as she had never been in this room before – after the Chamber, she had been taken straight to McGonagall's office, and then to the Hospital Wing. She took in the fascinating knick-knacks on the shelves, and the portraits of the Headmasters past lining the walls.  
  
"Ms. Weasley," Professor Dumbledore's voice brought her attention back to the old wizard, who was sitting behind a large mahogany desk. "Please have a seat," he gestured to the chairs placed across from the desk, his face grave. Ginny carefully made her way over, the nervousness eating at her insides, as Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and took position beside Ginny's intended seat. She sat down, staring at her shaking hands as they lay on her lap.  
  
"Well, Ms. Weasley, what do you have to say for yourself?" Professor McGonagall was obviously not pleased. "Cursing your own housemates? That is conduct unbefitting of a Gryffindor!" Ginny looked up sharply, her eyes narrowing at her Head of House.  
  
"And did my precious _housemates _tell you _why _I hexed them?" she shot back, disregarding the fact that this was her teacher and her elder, and she had been raised to show respect for such individuals.  
  
"Ms. Weasley," Professor Dumbledore cut in, looking quite unhappy with her. "Professor McGonagall and I would like to know exactly what happened in the Gryffindor common room yesterday evening. That is why we have called you here now. There are other matters of importance that we must also attend to, such as the security of this school in these dangerous times." Ginny looked back down guiltily. "Please, help us understand what happened, so that we may take the proper steps to ensure the safety of our students – both from outside forces and their own classmates."  
  
Ginny lifted her chin slightly, focusing her bright eyes on Dumbledore's face as she spoke. "My dearest _brother_," she sneered slightly, "decided to announce to the Gryffindor table right before the holidays, that I was the one responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets and letting the basilisk loose on the school in my first year." She ignored Dumbledore's growing grave look, and McGonagall's small gasp, as she continued. "He failed to mention, however, that I had been possessed at the time, so the Gryffindors decided to form their own conclusions. Apparently, I am one of..." she forced out the name... "_Voldemort's _closest supporters, and I helped choose the victims for the attacks two nights ago." She said this all with a definite sardonic lilt. "My _housemates_ decided that I was not worthy of being a _Gryffindor_. Parvati Patil decided to show me exactly what they thought of me," here she gestured to the black and blue bruise on her left cheek that she had purposely left unhealed, "while the others stood back and silently cheered her on." She looked directly into Dumbledore's disappointed blue eyes now, void of their usual twinkle. She managed to stop herself before admitting, _If being a Gryffindor means being judgmental and hypocritical, then I would rather not be one_, as the Weasley blood within her recoiled at just the thought. "I will not apologize for defending myself..." she carefully edited her dialogue once more by not adding, _against those worthless ingrates_. "I know _Slytherins _with more sense and house loyalty than those _mighty _Gryffindors showed to me." Ginny took a deep breath after her short speech. She knew she should not have been so unrepentant, but she refused to sit back and allow them to make her out to be the villain of the tale. Spending time with Blaise, she decided, had definitely had an effect on her. She was even starting to sneer the name 'Gryffindor,' just as he did...  
  
"Ms. Weasley," Professor McGonagall hissed, obviously appalled. "Now I know that your parents did not raise you to act this way... And you are a prefect!" Ginny stiffened and managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes in annoyance in front of the Headmaster and his Deputy Headmistress. She forced a slight shrug, and kept her eyes focused on the old wizard across from her.  
  
"Ms. Weasley," Dumbledore began, obviously disturbed by the situation, which slightly disturbed Ginny, who was used to seeing the greatest wizard of the age confident and happy. "The actions of your housemates, while disappointing, do not justify your curse on them. I will have to contact Molly and Arthur on this matter," he stated. Ginny's unemotional mask stayed in place as he continued. "As your actions were provoked, I will not stipulate a punishment too serious. Although," he paused to look intently at the young girl before him, "your position as a Prefect is under debate." Ginny froze, her heart dropping. She had _earned _that position, they could not take it away from her. She forced her features not to show the pain she was feeling, but she was sure that Dumbledore could probably see it anyway. The old wizard nodded slightly, as if finally understanding some complex puzzle, before stating that she would serve detention every weekday evening for the next two weeks with Professor McGonagall. Also, 75 points had been taken from Gryffindor House. Ginny could care less about the points. Right now, she would prefer that even Slytherin win the House Cup – any house but those traitorous Gryffindors.  
  
Ginny nodded curtly, and stood to leave after her punishment had been stated. "Ms. Weasley," Professor McGonagall's voice stopped her from moving to the door. "Don't you want to hear your housemates' punishments?" she asked with a small, tight smile on her lips. Ginny looked at the older witch, allowing the surprise to show clearly on her face. She had thought that they were getting away with what they had done to her...  
  
"Negative fifteen points, and three weeks of detention with Professor Snape, for each student present in the common room who stood by and watched a fellow housemate be attacked," came Dumbledore's voice. "And Ms. Patil will spend an eventful month of detention with Mr. Filch, after losing 100 points from the Gryffindor total." Ginny looked at the two professors, both having been Gryffindors in their own school days, and understood what it meant for them to take so many points away from their old house. There was no way that Gryffindor would win the House Cup now – they had not been leading by more that twenty points at the beginning of the holidays. She smiled slightly at them both, realizing that they were just as disappointed in her housemates as they had shown to be in her. She knew that she could have just left the common room without having hexed its occupants, but she had chosen to cast that charm. She was willing to deal with the consequences now. She doubted her housemates would take the news of _their _punishments nearly as well...  
  
"Good day, Professors," she said softly as she turned and left Dumbledore's office. Ginny went straight to the library, and began to look for sources for her History of Magic essay.

.

.

Draco smirked slightly as he caught sight of a certain little red head while searching for a table in the back of the library. He was already in a better mood than he had been yesterday – a quick walk past the display of house points tallies near the entrance of the Great Hall had shown that Gryffindor was now down to 127 points, placing Slytherin in the lead with its 487 points. As he walked over to her, Draco surmised that the little Weaslette's hex on her housemates the previous day, had probably had something to do with Slytherin's new position as the leading contender for the House Cup.  
  
"Weasley," he drawled, placing himself languidly on the seat across from her. She looked up, then quickly looked back down to continue writing on her parchment, ignoring him. Now this was unacceptable, he decided. No one ignores Draco Malfoy. So he sneered slightly, and did something to get her attention – he grabbed the homework she was working on. He leaned back, reading the first few lines of her essay.  
  
_Nimue, also known as Vivienne, Nineve, and Niniane, was a great witch of the early Middle Ages. She is best remembered for capturing the heart of the great wizard Merlin. But she was also his student, and learned to wield her power over magic just as well as she wielded her power over men. Daughter of a muggle Duke and a Siren – an especially beautiful mermaid with an enchanting voice_...  
  
That was as far as Draco got before the unfinished essay was ripped away from him by an irritated little weasel. "What do you want, Malfoy?" Her face was flushed, and Draco decided that it looked quite cute that way. That thought was only in his mind for a moment before he mentally slapped it away.  
  
"Just to talk, Weaslette," he responded snidely. When she turned back to her essay once more – most likely to continue ignoring him – he decided to take a different approach. "You know, I can heal that for you," he said quietly, indicating the bruise on her cheek. She stiffened slightly and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.  
  
"I can heal it myself, thank you," she responded swiftly, before looking back down at her work. Draco sighed silently, before lifting his hand to her cheek, and gently laying it on her soft, warm skin as he whispered a healing charm. Ginny started at the touch, and then lifted her own hand to touch her once-again-pale cheek once he had moved his back. She fingered where the bruise had once been, and then looked at him as though she had never seen him before. "Thank you," she said softly. Draco tried not to grin like an idiot at the sweet tone of her voice – directed at _him _– and rubbed his hand against his arm to get rid of the remnants of the intense tingle he had felt when touching her. She shook her head slightly, as though to rid herself of a daze, and then gave him a small smile. "Are you okay?" she asked, pointing vaguely to his neck, where Creevey had laid his hands the night before.  
  
Draco sneered slightly at the memory of the attack, and of her words – _Draco Malfoy is not worth it! _– and responded scathingly. "I'm fine, no thanks to Creevey." Any previous softness in her gaze was quickly replaced with indignation as she retorted.  
  
"You should not have called him what you did – that is such a vile term!" she hissed in anger, trying to stay quiet so as not to alert Madame Pince.  
  
"I've called Granger that tons of times, but she never tried to strangle me," he pointed out.  
  
"That's because Hermione's little sister hadn't just been murdered by Death Eaters!" Ginny looked ready to do some bodily harm to the blonde herself right now. Her glare faded, though, when she saw the shock clearly on the Slytherin's face. "I'm sure the whole school will know by this afternoon," she said quietly. "I'm not sure if you even care," and she looked truly disgusted at that thought, "but she was only five years old. Colin had only learned about her death a few hours before we came across you, Blaise, and Parkinson." She paused then, seeming to realize something. "Is Blaise alright?" she asked, her concern evident. "I know he was hurt by how Colin acted yesterday, but it was only because he was still in a total emotional mess." She leaned in to Draco then. "I _know _that Colin does not hold any hard feelings against Blaise," she whispered sadly. "He just couldn't really deal with talking about what had happened yesterday." She leaned back, and Draco could only nod slightly.  
  
He did not know what to say. He was an only child, so he could not grasp the pain Creevey must have felt at losing a sibling. But an innocent little girl was dead. He had read about others' deaths in the _Prophet_, but for some reason, this seemed so much more real, and so much worse. Seeing Ginny Weasley's sad face, recalling her red puffy eyes from the night before, stirred an insurmountable anger within Draco. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, looking down instead of at the other occupant of the table.  
  
"Thank you," she responded gently, "but I am not the person you should be apologizing to." Draco's head snapped up at her implied suggestion. Her gaze was surprisingly unreadable as she studied his face, presumably to see if he would take her advice.  
  
"I'll speak with Creevey," he conceded. After all, if Blaise really cared about the younger boy, Draco might as well try to get along with him. It didn't hurt that his agreement seemed to please Ginny Weasley, but he swiftly pushed that thought aside. He would apologize for Blaise's sake, and that was it. His mind scoffed at his attempted self-disillusionment as his insides squirmed – _they actually _squirmed_! _– when Ginny smiled at him. Draco tried to smirk in response, but his muscles were not cooperating, and he had the suspicious feeling that he had actually _smiled _at her. "You know, Malfoy, you're really not so bad," she stated softly, not looking very surprised by the revelation.  
  
Draco scoffed. "Of course I am!" He could not let his reputation as the Prince of Slytherin suffer. Ginny giggled slightly, and he sent her his best glare. She simply continued to smile at him, and leaned forward once more. Draco inhaled the uniquely sweet and spicy scent of her, and felt a shiver run up his spine.  
  
"Whatever you say, Draco." His name rolled off her tongue so smoothly, as though it had been devised specifically to be released from her sweet mouth. Draco stared at her pink lips for a few endless moments, before snapping out of the visual fantasy he had conjured of claiming them with his own. He quickly stood, needing to get away from the girl, before he did something extremely stupid, like kiss her. He saw Ginny watching him with an amused glint in her eyes, and a smile playing at her lips.  
  
"Later, Weasley," he said shortly, and turned to leave, hoping to make a quick exit.  
  
"Ginny," she stated flatly. He turned back with one questioning eyebrow raised. "My name," she expanded. "My name is Ginny." She arched her own eyebrow as his face relaxed to its customary smirk.  
  
"Ginny," he repeated, nodding. Then he turned away once more, and made his way through the library to the doors. "_Ginny_," he whispered, once he was in the safety of an empty corridor. He shook his head slightly. He couldn't even remember why he had gone to the library in the first place anymore. With a slight shrug and a satisfied smirk on his face, Draco made his way back to the Slytherin dungeons.

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Author's Notes:

VB: Is it VB or VAB? Oh, well; thanks so much for all of your support with this chapter and the song-fic; I really was double-minded about posting Chapter 4 as it is, but I'm glad that you seemed to like the way that I saw the story going... Please continue to read, enjoy, review, email, and chat! I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter!  
  
Athena Linborn: Thanks so much for your very sweet review... I hope Chapter 4 did not disappoint you; As for Draco/Ginny action, there will be some in Chapter 5, and even more in Chapter 6... So stay tuned! And please keep reviewing – knowing that readers are enjoying my writing only inspires me to write (and update) more quickly.  
  
mell8: Well, I know this isn't ASAP, but I hope I posted the next chapter in a timely manner... Thank you so much for your review... it is nice to just know that people are in fact reading and enjoying...  
  
Regs: I am honored that I could incite such emotion (even if it was distress)... :). Anyway, I'm glad to hear that you are enjoying the story, and I hope this chapter cleared up why Blaise and Ginny would not work as a couple, though I could definitely see why you were leaning towards the pairing (he is such a sweetie, isn't he?). Thanks so much for your review, and please let me know what you think of Ch. 4!  
  
Christelle: I am glad that you enjoyed Chapter 3 so well... and thank you for those grammar corrections – I went back and fixed some things; if you find anything in any other chapters, please let me know (I try to catch most mistakes before posting, but some do manage to slip by...). You liked the snow-fight? Great! I was hoping no one was too out of character for that... Thanks for reviewing, and please continue to let me know what you think of the story.  
  
SarkLover: Yes, I love Alias – I have seen every episode aired... I don't think I could ever write for Alias though, cuz the show's own plot has so many twists, turns, secrets, double-agents, and other all-around confusing things (and I haven't even touched on Rambaldi yet), so I've decided to stick with the much simpler Harry Potter world. Besides, I love Draco and Ginny, and while I also love Sydney and Vaughn together, my passion and imagination for DG is much stronger... Anyway, I am glad that you enjoyed the last chapter; yes, I did spend a bit of time creating the wizarding history (involved lots of online research of European history and trends of the royalty). Thanks for your review, and please continue to let me know what you think.  
  
Jungels: Thanks for your review... I think Chapter 4 answered your question about Colin and Blaise... I hope this update is up soon enough for you, and that you enjoyed the chapter. Please continue to let me know what you think – I love hearing from readers, and reviews only motivate me to continue writing and updating...  
  
xmag: I love hearing from you! You always have intelligent insightful comments that I usually find myself agreeing with. For example, YES, it is odd that all of the Weasleys are in Gryffindor, and that Slytherins are all bad and ugly in the books; personally, I think some of that has to do with the fact that the books are in Harry's POV; I also think it is something JKR will show to be wrong in later books, as stereotypes are something she is obviously against (a hint is Pettigrew having been a Gryffindor)... I can see what you mean about twists that you have come to expect, but I feel like Book 5 was on a completely different wavelength than the others... I think her writing is now being targeted to a slightly older audience, and we will see more of the shades of gray in the wizarding world, instead of just black and white. At least, that is what I think, but I could be wrong... But she must have revealed Voldemort's oppressive and depressing childhood for reasons besides comparing him to Harry... I guess we will just have to wait and see... Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing; as for the history assignment, do keep your eyes on it... And please continue to let me know what you think!  
  
Helena: Thank you for the complimentary review... I am glad that you like the setting and characters I am creating... I hope you enjoyed Chapter 4, and please continue to read and review.  
  
Eve Granger: Thanks for your review... In answer to your question, there is some DG action in Chapter 5, and more in Chapter 6... so please continue to read and enjoy the story, and I hope I don't disappoint. If you are looking for some DG action now, please refer to my song-fic to Hoobastank's "The Reason," which should be posted on Fanfiction.Net now. :)  
  
Mynuet: Thank you so much for your review! I am a fan of your writing, and it is so nice to hear that you are enjoying my story... Yes, it does seem as though Ginny and Draco are resisting falling for each other – and they are – but it is much more fun this way... And I think your Colin/Blaise question has been sufficiently answered in the above chapter... :) Anyway, thanks for reading, and please continue to let me know what you think.

Information about Nimue was found through various websites.  
  
NOTE: Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know what you think.


	5. Chapter Five

**Title:** Veritas Amo

**Author:** Rosa di Corte

**Category:** Romance/Mystery

**Pairing:** Draco/Ginny, Ginny/Draco

**Summary:** Amidst the Second War, in a changing world, two people – Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy – find themselves; and each other... D/G

**Spoilers:** Books 1-5; Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them; Quidditch Through the Ages

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, and Warner Bros., among others. Only the plot and any unfamiliar characters are mine.

* * *

**Sidenote:** After much consideration, I have decided to revise this story to show that Ginny's real name is in fact Ginevra, not Virginia. It took a little time, but the name has grown on me... Oh, and all those who have not already visited JKR's official website, you should -- it's great fun!

Website: www.jkrowling.com

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**CHAPTER 5**  
  
The weekend before classes started up again after the holidays went by fairly quickly. There would be no extension of the break, for a mourning period, because, as Dumbledore had pointed out, canceling classes to focus on the after-math of the attacks would be exactly what Voldemort and the Death Eaters wanted – but to continue to live their lives to the fullest extent would be showing the Death Eaters that their power over the wizarding world was not so great. Ginny had spent most of Saturday evening and Sunday in the Room of Requirement, with Colin, Luna, and Neville. Sometimes Dennis would join them as well, to be with his brother, but more- often he would hide away in a corner of the Gryffindor common room with his little girlfriend or shut himself alone in his room. Ginny had received a very loud howler from Molly Weasley on Sunday afternoon – expressing her deepest disappointment in her youngest – that, thankfully, had exploded in a sound-proof Room of Requirement. The Gryffindors had not taken their loss of house points very well. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs weren't too happy that Slytherin was in the lead for the House Cup, either. It seemed they all wanted to blame Ginny for this disaster, but, surprisingly, it was Harry Potter who had set the record straight, and stated disappointment in his own housemates for their behavior towards his best friend's little sister. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had all been acting differently since the little _heart-to-heart_ chat they had had with Ginny on Friday night.  
  
After a long week of classes – and a return to routine – things seemed to settle down a bit in the castle. Parvati Patil was still bitter with Ginny, but the other Gryffindors had made attempts to apologize to the red head, after realizing that she had been a victim of the Dark Lord, and not his accomplice. Even Padma Patil, Parvati's twin sister in Ravenclaw, had approached Ginny later in the week to apologize for her sister's actions. Needless to say, news of exactly what had happened in her first year – her possession by the young Voldemort – had spread quickly throughout the school, and to all of the Houses. So when Draco Malfoy cornered her in a hallway on her way back from her last class of the day – Charms with Professor Flitwick – on Friday, Ginny was not too surprised.  
  
"Ginny," she shivered at the sound of her name coming from his lips. The feeling was almost as great as the intense current she had felt flow through her when he had touched her cheek last week in the library. She fought the nervous and excited blush that was trying to creep into her face, and coolly leaned against the wall to face him.  
  
"Yes?" she asked in a voice that sounded much too breathless to her own ears. She only prayed that he had not noticed. She stiffened slightly as he stepped closer to her, placing his body mere inches away from her own. She could feel the heat of him radiating onto her, and tried not to gulp loudly.  
  
"Is it true?" he asked directly. She looked up, into his beautiful eyes, and debated with herself what to answer. She had no doubt as to what he was referring to, she just did not know how much of her story she wanted to reveal to him. His father, after all, had been the one to give her that damn diary.  
  
She shrugged slightly, and decided to play the ignorance card. "Is what true?" she asked, scrunching up her nose a bit to convey confusion. Apparently this was the wrong move, for his eyes darkened considerably, as he straightened his body to his full 6'3" height, and took another step closer.  
  
"Don't play dumb," he said in a clipped tone. Then, "It doesn't suit you," he threw in, almost as an afterthought. Ginny was unsure, but that sounded suspiciously like a compliment, coming from the Prince of Slytherin to the youngest Weasley. The thought caused her to smirk slightly.  
  
"If you are asking whether I was possessed by a young _Voldemort_," – it became easier to say each time, and the surprise was clear on Draco's face at her calm use of the name – "to open the Chamber of Secrets in my first year, then yes, it's true." She watched him closely for his reaction, but was disappointed to see that any emotions he felt were tightly concealed by a placid mask and guarded silver eyes. He only nodded curtly, and took a few steps back, away from her. She ignored the twinge of disappointment she felt at his retreat. "Is that all?" she asked, trying to provoke some type of response, so she could properly gage his thoughts about the situation.  
  
"Yes, that's all," he said quietly, and then turned and left. She didn't know what she had expected him to do, but it had not been that. He hadn't asked her if she was okay, if she wanted to talk about it, or tried to comfort her in any way. Then she realized what she was thinking, and who she was thinking about. She should not have been surprised by his actions. She should not feel this heaviness in her heart at his casual desertion. But she was, and she did. What was happening to her?

.

.  
  
Draco stormed up to the Astronomy Tower, feeling the rage growing inside of him. He could not have stood by Ginny Weasley for a moment longer, wanting to hold her and kiss her, and take away the pain of something his father had done. Yes, he knew his father was responsible for the reopening of the Chamber of Secrets. He had never known the specifics, but it had all been his father's plan, and he had told Draco to stay out of the situation, and let the Heir of Slytherin 'cleanse the school.' Draco had had no idea that Ginny Weasley had been used, or that Voldemort was actually Slytherin's heir. Did that mean that Voldemort had been a student at Hogwart's, over fifty years ago, the last time the Chamber had been opened? Draco decided that that was something he would have to look into.  
  
As he sat on a ledge in the Tower – unknown to him, the same place Ginny Weasley had occupied after her housemates had turned on her – he thought back to his encounter with the little red head. He had wanted so badly to take her into his arms, to keep her away from any and all danger...  
  
Draco shook away his traitorous thoughts. Why should he want to comfort her? To protect her? She was a Weasley! But for some reason, that sneering reminder of her social status did little to abate his desire to hold her, comfort her, and never let her go. _Gods_, what was he thinking? If he felt anything, it was a bit of lust. That was all, he tried to convince himself. Once he was satisfied that he felt nothing more than some physical attraction to the little weasel, Draco stood up, and made his way back to the Slytherin dungeons, a confident swagger back in his step.  
  
His newly acknowledged position towards Ginny Weasley lasted well into the next month, as he barely saw the girl. Between Prefect rounds – a part of Dumbledore's increased security for Hogwarts – and quidditch practices, on top of the growing load of assignments from the professors, Draco had been kept very busy. Not to mention the stress he endured keeping tabs on his mother's well-being and watching cautiously for word from Lucius: thankfully, his dearest father had yet to contact either Draco or Narcissa.  
  
The quidditch game against Ravenclaw, that had been played two weeks ago, had been a very close match. Luckily, Draco had caught the snitch before Cho Chang had even seen the small, fluttering gold ball, and Slytherin had won by ten points. Draco had doubled practice time after that – if they wanted the Quidditch Cup, they would have to score heavily and let in no goals, in their last game against Hufflepuff. Gryffindor would be facing Ravenclaw next weekend, and they were leading for the Quidditch Cup after their wins against Slytherin and Hufflepuff earlier in the school year. Draco had refused to let them receive that honor once again, not while he was Slytherin's Quidditch captain, anyway.  
  
So after Gryffindor's astounding win by seventy points against Ravenclaw – due to the work of their talented chasers, Draco admitted – he was annoyed to find that he wanted to congratulate the little weasel on a job well done. Did people in lust do that? Whatever the answer to that question, Draco found himself approaching the red head, who was sitting by the lake, apparently oblivious to the February cold.

.

.  
  
"Good show," came a familiar drawl from behind Ginny. She turned her head to see Draco Malfoy standing behind her, and gazing out onto the still- frozen water. When he glanced down to see that she had looked back at the sound of his voice, she gave him a sweet smile, not realizing that it made reason flee from his mind.  
  
"Thanks," she replied softly. "I saw your game against Ravenclaw a few weeks ago," she continued, "that was a pretty good catch." Draco only shrugged slightly, before moving to sit beside her on the cold, hard ground. It was not covered with snow, but Ginny knew it was still uncomfortable. He did not seem to notice the surprise on her face when he cast a quick warming charm around them both. She decided not to mention it, for she was quite certain that he did not even realize that he had performed the considerate gesture. Instead, she decided to start a friendly conversation. "So," she began, not quite sure, now that she had opened her mouth, what she was supposed to talk with him about. "How are your classes going?" She wanted to curse herself, but at least school was a topic they had in common, as they were both students.  
  
Draco raised one eyebrow in obvious amusement before responding with a curt "Fine." She rolled her eyes at his uncooperativeness, and looked away. She heard him sigh slightly and shift beside her, before he spoke again. "Things have been busy," he expanded, almost reluctantly. "The professors have been piling up the work," she nodded in agreement and he smirked slightly. "Other than that, I have Prefect rounds and quidditch captain responsibilities." She understood completely... she also had Prefect rounds – thankfully, Dumbledore and McGonagall had let her keep her position with a stern warning of removal at the slightest indication of irresponsible behavior on her part – and Harry had been drilling them for weeks in quidditch tactics before their game against Ravenclaw. Ginny believed that the professors seemed to forget that the students had other classes when they assigned so much homework every week. She had barely had any time to spend with Blaise and her other friends between all of her responsibilities and the meetings of the re-instated D.A.  
  
"Same here," she responded succinctly, "except without the duties of quidditch captain," she added quickly.  
  
"So has Potter been driving your team hard, then?" he asked with a small chuckle.  
  
Ginny simply smirked and said, "You have no idea! He's getting to be as bad as Oliver Wood was rumored to have been," she laughed slightly.  
  
Draco nodded. "Wood was a pretty good captain," he admitted. "For a Gryffindor," came the sardonic finish. Ginny only shook her head slightly at his still obviously present anti-Gryffindor stance.  
  
"Draco, you do realize that _I_ am a Gryffindor, right?" she asked, amusement shining in her eyes.  
  
Draco looked away, before shrugging once more. "You're different." Now, Ginny knew that that had been a compliment. And that threw her off completely. There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere at that admission – something had changed irrevocably between them. And it seemed that they both knew it.

.

.  
  
When Ginny returned to the Gryffindor Tower later that afternoon – traipsing through the loud and rambunctious celebration of the Gryffindor win, and up to her own dorm – she could not for the life of her have explained the exchange by the lake with Draco Malfoy. They had said nothing more after his veiled compliment to her, and both had sat in an uncomfortable silence for the next ten minutes, before he stood abruptly, and left, with only a nod in her direction to serve as farewell. She did not know how she should be feeling about what had transpired, but she knew that a part of her was excited... and _happy_. She had never felt this way before. She had had a crush on Harry Potter – that was true. But now she knew that that was all it had been – a crush. The emotions which stirred within her at the mere thought of a certain blond Slytherin Prince, overshadowed anything she had ever felt in Harry's presence.  
  
But a larger part of her was quite frightened of the obvious affection growing within her towards the Malfoy heir. This could lead to no good – he was a Malfoy, and she was a Weasley. It would never work, and he would only hurt her in the end. She had seen how he was with different girls in the school. He always chose a very physically attractive girl, which made her wonder what he was trying to do with her – Ginny knew that, while she was not ugly, she was not one of the beauties of Hogwarts that Draco Malfoy usually pursued, either. _Was he even pursuing her?_ The other girls seemed to have been interchangeable to him – he cared for no one. She also knew that if he _did_ feel anything for her, it was only lust, and once she had given in to whatever it was he wanted, she would be thrown aside as well. She could not bear the thought of that happening, so she pushed the smirking blonde to the back of her mind, as she laid back on her bed, and enjoyed a short rest period before she would be forced to rise for her evening activities.  
  
She would not have Prefect rounds that night, but there would be a meeting of the D.A. later, after the party in the common room had died down. The D.A. had been somewhat inactive for the first semester – there were a few meetings, but since Defense Against the Dark Arts included practical application once again, most of the students found it unnecessary to continue to meet. After the attacks in the earliest hours of the New Year, however, most of the old members of the D.A. were much more willing to take the time to sharpen their skills in Defense. Many new students had joined the group as well – though there were still no Slytherins involved – and the D.A. had been meeting twice a week in the Room of Requirement, working around the schedules of different Houses and Prefects.  
  
Ginny sighed, then lifted herself up to search her trunk for a quill and some parchment. She figured she might as well use her bit of free time to respond to the letter she had received from Molly Weasley a few weeks ago. Her mother had informed her that her brother Bill – who had married Fleur Delacour in a small ceremony at the Ministry of Magic at the beginning of last summer – was now the father of a healthy baby girl. Ginny had calculated the math in her head, and finally understood the quick and very unromantic wedding between her brother and the part-veela – Fleur had already been pregnant when they exchanged their vows. The views of wizarding society regarding sexual relationships between unmarried people, matched those that muggles had held almost fifty years ago, according to Hermione. But Ginny really didn't care about the impropriety of the situation. She was just thrilled that she now had a little niece, another Weasley female in the family, who had not married into the name. Her mother had sent her a picture of Sabine Collette Weasley, and Ginny was sure that she had to have been the most perfect baby ever born. She had a tuft of platinum blond hair on her small head, big baby blue eyes, and it was clear that she would definitely grow into her veela beauty.  
  
After writing to her mother to ask after her little niece, Ginny decided to join the dwindling party in the common room. Colin was down there, she knew, as were Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Her relationship with the Dream Team had reached somewhat of a truce – they were civil to each other, and the Gryffindor trio attempted to try not to dictate her life. She was grateful for the short reprieve, for she knew that once they learned of her relationship with Blaise Zabini, their position of non-interference would be forgotten in a heartbeat.  
  
When Ginny arrived downstairs, it turned out that the only people left in the common room were those who would be leaving shortly for the D.A. meeting. After helping them clean up – Hermione refused to leave the mess for the under-appreciated house-elves – they all made their way to the Room of Requirement.  
  
The night of practice of Defense spells went fairly well.  
  
It was the encounter that ensued after the members of the D.A. had been dismissed by Harry that had been disastrous.

.

.  
  
Coming across a band of Gryffindors on his Prefect rounds was like a dream come true for Draco Malfoy. He had spent his time after his little chat with Ginny Weasley trying to make a dent in his immense school workload. As his mind had kept drifting to his earlier encounter with the little red head, he had not gotten much of his homework done. What had he been thinking when he had said that she was _different_? The truth was, he had not been thinking at all. He had been so lost in his closeness to her, and in her sweet smile and her large brown eyes, that he had said the first words that came into his mind. But after much reflection on his comment, he realized that he had been right – she was different from those other Gryffindors. Otherwise, he would not be so drawn to her. This new awareness, combined with his finally conscious self-admission of feeling more than simple lust for the girl, had thoroughly jarred him. Some Gryffindor-bashing to balance his teetering equilibrium was exactly what he needed right now. What he had not needed was to see his little red-headed nymph – _Gods, he was giving her cute nicknames, now?_ – amidst the group of Gryffs.  
  
"Well, well, what do we have here?" he asked in his usual casual drawl. "Gryffindors out of bed, after hours? And when you're already so behind in House points?" he chuckled a bit. "And here I thought you were supposed to be the house of the brave, not the stupid..."  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ah, the big Weasel. Draco paused for a moment, trying to understand how Ginny could be related to such an oaf. He mentally shrugged it off, and sneered at the tall, angry red head before him.  
  
"I am the Prefect on rounds tonight, Weasel. You will answer to me." The obnoxious prat was starting to bug him, and Draco mentally rolled his eyes as Potter and Granger stepped up beside their irate friend, ready to do battle. He saw Ginny standing still behind them, watching the scene with wary eyes.  
  
"We have permission to be out, Malfoy," cut in Granger, reasonably. "We had a club meeting, and now we are returning to Gryffindor Tower. You can check with Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore if you want." She really was a sanctimonious bitch, Draco decided.  
  
"Perhaps," he began, an idea forming in his mind. "Perhaps we will ask Professor Snape." He truly enjoyed the looks of outrage around him. "What little club is this, anyway?"  
  
"Dumbledore's Army," came the voice of – surprisingly – Neville Longbottom.  
  
"You remember the students who gave you that spectacular send-off on the Hogwarts Express last summer, don't you?" Potter asked, looking quite smug. Draco decided that that look did not suit the scar face at all.  
  
He thought back to the train ride home, and how Potter's lackeys from the other Houses had hexed him when he had tried to confront the Gryffindor hero for what he had done to Draco's father. That had been when he had still adored Lucius Malfoy, and Draco had been outraged that his father had been put in Azkaban because of Potty and his groupies. While he no longer worshipped Lucius as he had done before, Draco's pride was still hurt by the mess he had been reduced to by those goody-goody club members.  
  
"Ah, I think he remembers," the Weasel laughed.  
  
Draco was livid, and he would do just about anything to hurt the Dream Team the way he was hurting at the moment. So he threw on a cruel smirk, and hit the Gryffindor trio where it would hurt the most. "Yes, I remember," he began in a tight drawl, being sure to keep his fury reigned in. "That was just after those Death Eaters had been captured in the Department of Mysteries, correct?" He continued, ignoring the surprised looks at his casual admittance of his father's status as a Death Eater. "Around the same time that my second-cousin, Sirius Black, was killed by my own dear Aunt Bellatrix," he sighed in false sorrow, shaking his head slightly, glancing at Potter, whose hands were fisted in rage. The other students – the ones who did not know the truth of Sirius Black's innocence or of his death at the Department of Mysteries – stood back, watching confusedly. "Terrible, it was," he finished, a vicious smile on his handsome face.  
  
"That's enough, Malfoy!" Draco was slightly startled to hear Ginny Weasley, but he quickly recovered his cool mask. He lifted one eyebrow in sardonic amusement, and pushed away whatever pain he felt at her tone, and her use of his last name.  
  
"_Malfoy_, eh? Just this afternoon, it was _Draco_," he affected his tone into one of sweet mocking when he repeated his first name. "What happened, love, you don't want to be _friends_ anymore?" He felt his heart drop at the sight of the hurt in her eyes, but ignored it. If she wanted to have any kind of relationship with him, she would have to accept who he truly was. And that included accepting his hatred of the Dream Team.  
  
"Ginny?" The Gryffindors, led by the 'Fabulous Three' were looking at the small red-head as though she was one of Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts. "Is it true, Ginevra?" Ron Weasley was obviously pissed, as his face was steadily turning maroon. _Ginevra, eh?_ Draco thought. _Hmm, good to know...  
_  
"It's not what you're thinking –" she began, but the idiot Weasel cut her off.  
  
"What is wrong with you? What are you doing hanging around _Slytherins_?" Draco fought the urge to throw the tall red head against the wall as he towered over his little sister. "Didn't your first year teach you anything?" That was as far as he got, for Draco had had enough. He could not stand seeing the pain and betrayal reflected in Ginny's eyes for a moment longer.  
  
"Wow, Weasel," Draco cut in, clapping mockingly, "are you naturally this lousy of a brother, or is it a practiced deficiency?" Ron Weasley turned to him then, his wand raised. Draco put his hands up, to show he was unarmed. "Go on, Weasley, show everyone what a great wizard you are by hexing an unarmed opponent. Then maybe they'll overlook how you care more about your reputation, and your hero Potty and his mudblood girlfriend, than you do your own sister. Because if you are only noticing now that she has been hanging around _Slytherins_, then you obviously don't have a clue."  
  
"Stop, Malfoy," Creevey cut in. "We all see your point. You can go now." At Draco's raised eyebrow, he sighed. "We do have permission to be out, and Dumbledore will only confirm that." Draco held his eye for a moment, and determined that the younger boy was telling the truth. The two had reached an understanding of sorts a few weeks back, when Draco had – somewhat hesitantly – apologized for the comments he had spouted in the kitchens the day after the Death Eaters' New Year's attacks. Since then, their relationship had actually been bordering what some would call 'civility.'  
  
"Very well, then," he nodded curtly, paying no heed to the obvious astonishment around him that Draco Malfoy had listened to little muggle- born Colin Creevey. He looked to Ginny, who was avoiding his gaze, and sneered. "Fine. Leave. Now!" he commanded, when no one had moved. The group of Gryffindors began to make their way back to their common room once more, most of them shooting glares his way as they passed, to which he sneered back. Draco turned to watch as the Weasel grabbed his sister by her wrist to drag her along, and he had to stop himself from throwing his body onto the buffoon, and beating him for his harsh treatment of the small girl. As it was, that would have been unnecessary, as both Ginny and Creevey had pulled their wands, and Ginny whispered something quietly to her brother, that made him let go quickly and walk ahead. Draco surmised that it probably had something to do with her advanced magical abilities, and her brother's fear of spiders. He held back a chuckle at the thought of Weasley, on the ground and covered with spiders, and crying like a baby. Any humor he felt disappeared, however, when Ginny walked by him, without so much as glancing up. She had ignored him, and for some reason, that had hurt him more than he had ever thought possible.

.

.  
  
The biting cold of February eased in March, and by the time the end of April came, spring showers had been steadily muddying the grounds for weeks, effectively soaking Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures students who had not been forward-thinking enough to have cast _Impervius_ charms before leaving their dorms. Filch had been heavily enforcing the 'no magic in the hallways' rule, and therefore delighted in penalizing students who dragged in water and mud from the outdoors due to their inability to cast cleansing or drying charms in the halls of the castle. The rain did not, however, keep Ginny and Blaise from their meetings by the lake.  
  
They sat under the ancient willow a ways from the water, protected by the _Impervius_ and warming charms above them, and a drying charm on the ground directly below. Ginny sighed quietly, enjoying the peaceful quiet of Sunday afternoon. The last few months had passed quickly, as she had been so busy with classes, preparation for O.W.L.s, and D.A. meetings – the quidditch season had ended in early March with Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Cup.  
  
Yet the time had gone slowly as well, for Ginny found herself missing a blond ferret she had not even realized before-hand had been an important part of her life. Draco had not spoken to her since the encounter in the hallway after the D.A. meeting, and Ginny found that his treatment of her as though she did not exist, hurt even more than the petty insults he used to throw her way. She had only been trying to stop him from insulting the memory of Sirius that night; she had not meant to push him away from her.  
  
Sometimes she thought that the situation was for the best – that they had not grown closer, so he could not hurt her even more. But then she would see him in the halls, walking with Blaise and Parkinson, or flirting with some pretty girl, and the pain would pierce her heart again...  
  
"Knut for your thoughts?" came Blaise's smooth drawl. His way of speaking was so similar to Draco's, but his voice did not cause the tremors within her that Draco's could.  
  
"I was just thinking about the coming summer," she lied. She knew that Blaise could see through the untruth, but also knew that he would let it slide. "Colin and Dennis will have to stay in a safe-house with their parents, under a secret-keeper." She had not revealed any confidential information... mostly because she had no access to such knowledge. Besides, she trusted Blaise, and he had been with her to help Colin cope with life after the loss of his little sister for the past few months. "I just wish that they did not have to hide." She sighed, as Blaise nodded in silent agreement.  
  
In all honesty, Ginny was somewhat grateful that her friend and his family would be safe. Reports of attacks by the Death Eaters were in the papers every week. People all over Great Britain were being targeted. Just last week, a high-ranking Ministry of Magic official and his wife had been murdered. Before that, there had been reports of random muggle killings. People were dying out there, and there was nothing Ginny could do to help. She had pleaded with Molly Weasley once more – this time in writing – to allow her to help the cause of the Order of the Phoenix, but she was once again shut out. She knew the Order was making plans and working to protect the innocent people outside of the castle walls – as Ron, Harry, and Hermione had been particularly busy these past few months – but she was kept from doing anything by their mistrust, masked as over-protectiveness. The Dream Team had not reacted well to her implied relationship with the Malfoy heir. Their reactions had been even worse to proof of her actual friendship with Blaise. Ron had written to his family about it, and Ginny had received various letters from her brothers and parents – some more scolding than others, but all quite certain that 'poor, little Ginny' was being manipulated in some way – demanding an explanation of her relationship with the Slytherin. She had simply replied to each letter with one line of her own: _We are friends_. After her succinct response, relations with her family members had grown obviously strained. She had made it a point to avoid the Gryffindor trio after that.  
  
"You look tired," came Blaise's voice, interrupting her bitter reverie. She turned away from him, so he would not be able to clearly see the dark circles under her eyes, and shrugged slightly. "Nightmares again?" he asked, gently pulling her towards him, to lean on his strong chest. Ginny only nodded slightly in response. "Do you want to tell me about them?" She stilled for a moment, before relaxing into the embrace, and speaking.  
  
"It was _him_," she said, her voice so quiet he had to move his head down near her lips to hear her. "It was Voldemort, and that girl again," she continued. This was not the first time that she had confided in Blaise regarding her night terrors. "She looked so sad, Blaise, and I could tell that she was worried about something." Ginny moved her head slightly to look at her friend. "I think she _is_ real, and I think she's in trouble, but I don't know how to help her!" Ginny knew she sounded tired and whiny, but she felt so helpless – she did not know what else to do. Blaise simply shushed her, and gently laid her head back on his shoulder with one hand. She did not see him take out his wand, or hear him whisper a spell. But it did not really matter to her, for in a few minutes, she was fast asleep.

.

.  
  
"What is _she_ doing here?" Draco knew his voice was not as detached as it should have been at that inquiry, but at this point, he honestly did not care.  
  
"_Ginny_ is sleeping," Blaise drawled, his amusement obvious, "so keep your voice down."  
  
Draco looked at his friend closely, and tried to remind himself that Blaise was gay. But that did not stop his hands from forming fists as his best mate absentmindedly stroked Ginny Weasley's vibrant red locks. "That still doesn't explain why she is in our dorm room," Draco continued in a quieter tone, "and why she is in _your bed_!" Blaise only smirked in response. Draco let out petulant huff and stalked over to his own bed, which was positioned a few feet away from Blaise's. Draco sat down stiffly on his mattress, keeping his eyes locked on the pair in the bed next to his. He heard Blaise sigh.  
  
"Well, since you are here," he began, "why don't you make yourself useful and make sure the other oafs don't bother her." Draco arched one brow at the subtle insult, and frowned slightly at his friend. "I have a letter to write," Blaise explained, carefully extricating his body from its position beside Ginny on the bed, and smoothing out the black casual robes he was wearing over charcoal-gray pants and a black button-up, as he stood. He smirked at Draco, and left before the blonde had even agreed to the task. Draco looked from the closed dorm room door to the small girl lying on the bed next to his, before whispering the strongest locking charm he could conjure – he did not want the other Slytherins to learn of her presence. Draco tried to convince himself that he had cast the charm because he did not want anyone to see him associating with a Weasley, but gave up the half-hearted attempt: Draco did not like lying to himself, and he knew, whether he wanted to admit it or not, that he had locked the door for her safety. The Slytherins could be vicious with outsiders, especially little Gryffs. This made him wonder why Blaise had brought her here in the first place, and also _how_ he had gotten her into their dorm unnoticed. But then, Blaise did have a knack for the invisibility charm...  
  
Draco's attention was diverted from his musings by a whimper from the small girl. She was tossing about Blaise's bed a bit, obviously in the throws of a disturbing dream. Draco moved quickly to her side without thinking, and gently laid a hand on her cheek. He grew alarmed when she stilled at his touch, but he relaxed when she sighed gently and seemed to be sleeping peacefully again. Draco simply watched her as she slept for a few minutes, taking in her fluttering auburn lashes, the sprinkling of light freckles adorning her otherwise pale, milky skin – which he knew to be quite soft to the touch, as his thumb was currently brushing back and forth across her the top of her left cheek – and her slightly-parted full pink lips.  
  
Draco made to move away when the temptation to kiss her became too great, but he stopped when she began to whimper again at the loss of his touch. He looked around for some other means to soothe her, but realized that she must need the physical contact to ease her nightmares – he recalled that she had been fine when Blaise was beside her. So, after quickly reviewing the pros and cons of actively comforting her, Draco kicked off his shoes and laid his body down beside hers. Really, it had not been such a difficult decision – he had wanted to hold her for months now... Avoiding her for so long had been difficult, but he had found the distance necessary: she had hurt him, and it disturbed him that he had not even realized he had given her the power to do so. So he had tried to cut her out from his life, filling the hollowness with nameless, faceless girls who bored him easily. Still, he would often find his mind and his gaze straying to the small red head. He smiled slightly as the object of his thoughts rolled off of her back and onto her side, curling up her body a bit as she rested her head on his chest. He brought his arms to wrap around her, and reveled in the feel of her lean petite form so close to him. She fit so perfectly next to him, like she had been created to fill a void in his life that he had not previously known existed. He almost scoffed at his own thoughts, but the feel of her soft breath blowing against the skin of his neck as she shifted slightly stopped such self- ridicule.  
  
Once he had ascertained that she was, indeed, sleeping comfortably once more, he took the opportunity to do what he had been so angry with Blaise for doing not more than half an hour ago. He slowly slid his long, nimble fingers into the silk tresses of her hair, pausing to play with the soft curl at the ends, before lifting his hand once again to repeat the process. Her hair had darkened even more over the past few months, he noted, making it a far cry from the typical Weasley orange-red it had once been. It was more of an apple-red now, he decided, as he continued to weave his fingers through her mane. He sighed slightly, as her spicy sweet smell overtook him, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to fall into a light sleep.  
  
He awoke two hours later, and looked around for the source of the disturbance to his rest. He was certain that Blaise knew the counter to the locking charm he had placed on the door, and his other roommates would not dare bother him, once they had ascertained that the entrance to the dorm was locked; Delilah Windholm had not spoken to him since he had informed her that their arrangement was over, though she did send a lot of glares his way... His investigation came to an end when the girl in his arms rubbed her nose into his chest, as though it were a pillow – which, he admitted to himself, it _was_ at the moment – and groaned softly. He watched a bit warily as she slowly shook off sleep, and opened her eyes. She moved her head slightly, and then stiffened. She slowly lifted her upper body, resting it on one arm, as she stared unseeingly at her 'pillow' for a moment. Then she let her eyes drift up, and to his face. He saw her eyes widen in surprise – and then a healthy bit of embarrassment – as she met his silver orbs. So he did the only thing he could think of at the moment – he smirked at her.

.

.  
  
Ginny simply stared at the beautiful smirking blonde before her, and was tempted to pinch herself to check if she was awake. But as a soothing scent of sandalwood and musk invaded her senses, most likely originating from the boy who had acted as her 'pillow' for the restful nap she had just had, she realized that this was no dream. She let her lips form a small pout, as her nose crinkled a bit in confusion. The last place she remembered being awake was outside, by the lake, and with...  
  
Blaise.  
  
She was going to kill him...  
  
"Where is he?" Ginny was too busy glancing around the room – and trying to keep her temper in check – to see the fleeting look of surprise, confusion, and a bit of hurt cross Draco's face. By the time she turned back to the boy beside her, he was wearing a cool emotionless mask once more, his silver eyes guarded. Ginny started a bit at the closed-off and... _cold _expression. She tilted her head to one side, as though trying to figure him out. She had spent the last few months missing his presence around her, and now, here he was – in bed with her...  
  
Hmm...  
  
She quickly surveyed their positions on the bed, and realized that he must have been holding her as she slept. And what wonderful sleep it had been! She could not remember any darkness from her dreams. And, for the first time in weeks, remnants of images of Voldemort's hideous face and an unknown dark-haired girl did not batter at her newly-awakened conscious mind. Ginny looked back up at Draco, who was still watching her with that detached mask on his face.  
  
She opened her mouth a few times, but then promptly closed it, for she honestly did not know what to say to him. Last time she had checked, he was angry with her and ignoring her. But then why had she woken up in his arms? He seemed to have heard her unasked question, for he spoke then.  
  
"Blaise brought you in here," he supplied. "Then he left me in charge of 'watching over you.' You were having some kind of nightmare, and only seemed to calm when there was someone right next to you. So here we are." He seemed quite disinterested in the whole process. Ginny felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, a bit embarrassed with herself for having thought he actually wanted to hold her in such a way. She tried not to let the disappointment hurt too much...  
  
She nodded slightly, and gave a soft "Thanks," resting her eyes on some random spot on the bedspread throughout the exchange. There were a few more moments of silence, before she bravely lifted her eyes back to his, and asked the question that had been plaguing her for months now. "Why were you so angry with me?" At his arched eyebrow, she expanded a bit. "Before, I mean... when you caught the Gryffindors leaving the D.A. meeting..." she trailed off, hoping for an answer.  
  
"Who said I was angry?" was all he replied with. Ginny rolled her eyes in slight frustration, and repositioned her body, sitting up beside his laying form.  
  
"I only wanted to stop you from tarnishing Sirius' memory," she tried to explain her side of things. She paused then. "How did you know about that, anyway?" He shrugged slightly.  
  
"My father told my mother that her sister had killed Sirius Black," he said shortly. At her still questioning gaze, he admitted, "My father informed me of Sirius Black's innocence during the summer after my fourth year."  
  
"The summer after Voldemort first returned..." she said thoughtfully. Draco only nodded. "I know you were only trying to hurt Ron, Harry, and Hermione the way that they hurt you" – she continued to speak, placing the tips of her fingers on his mouth, as he opened it, no doubt to insist that he had not been 'hurt.' "I know, because I have done the same thing; but I just could not let you use Sirius' memory like that – he suffered enough in life," she finished softly.  
  
Draco was looking at her oddly now, and, blushing, she quickly pulled her hand away from where her fingertips had been resting, on his soft lips. Her face only grew more heated as she thought of those lips on her skin, on her own lips... She was finding the bed sheets quite interesting again. She raised her eyes back up when she heard him chuckle softly.  
  
She liked seeing him like this, she decided. With his loose platinum-blond strands falling into his silver eyes. His face was no longer guarded and wary, but she knew what he revealed before her now was only a fraction of the depth of emotion that he possessed. She smiled at him, happy to see that he no longer seemed upset with her – at least he was acknowledging her again. Her smile faltered a bit when his chuckles stopped abruptly, and he simply lay there, looking up at her with an unreadable emotion swirling in his metallic eyes. She stayed still as he slowly lifted one hand, and brushed back a lock of her long hair, tucking it behind one ear. He did not move that hand away once the unruly hair was in place; instead, he cupped the back of her neck, and gently pulled her down to him, as he lifted his upper body a bit.  
  
Ginny's heart raced, as her eyes locked with his. He simply looked at her for a few moments, and Ginny had to stop herself from pulling away and running from him in fear that he would reject her, due to some inadequacy she possessed. She let her eyelids flutter shut as he moved his lips closer to hers, but she did not receive the expected kiss. Instead, he let his lips graze lightly against her cheek – the same cheek he had healed of a bruise months before. She smiled slightly at this sweet, chaste gesture. She took a deep breath, reveling in the comforting scent of him. She kept her eyes shut as she felt the soft flesh of his lips glide smoothly along her face, down to the vulnerable skin of her neck. She gasped as his hot mouth latched onto her pulse-point, feeling lighting course through her body. She never knew it could feel this amazing. Michael had been a rough kisser, and Dean had been sweet – and the one kiss she had shared with Neville, shortly after the end of the Yule ball, had been fumbling, nervous, and sloppy. This... it was not even a proper kiss, but it surpassed them all. This was passion, lust, fire, desire, need... Oh, _gods_, this was _perfect_...  
  
Well, it would have been perfect if Blaise had not chosen to walk in on the middle of Draco's gentle assault on her neck.  
  
As the young witch and wizard on the bed were too preoccupied to have heard the release of the locking charm or the opening of the door, it was Blaise's sardonic clapping for their intimate display that had caused Ginny's eyes to shoot open. Upon seeing her dark-haired friend, she let out an embarrassing squeak and pulled herself forcefully out of Draco's grasp, effectively displacing her body from the bed.  
  
"Ow," she muttered from her new position on the floor. She decided to lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling of the sixth year Slytherin boys' dormitory, effectively avoiding having to face either of the boys present in the room. Her tactic was successful for a total of three seconds – the time it took for Blaise to walk over from his position by the door to her place on the floor, and for Draco to leisurely roll over onto his side, and look down upon her from the bed she had just deserted.  
  
"Alright, '_Lina_?" Blaise asked, but amusement clearly outweighed concern in both his voice and his eyes. She sent him one of her best glares, quite a difficult feat considering she was wishing to be swallowed up by the ground at the moment. He only laughed, and held out a hand to help her up. She accepted his offer, and found herself standing beside 'the bed.' She did not know where to look. She definitely could not look at Blaise, after what he had just walked in on. And looking at Draco did not seem like the best idea at the moment either. So she settled on looking at the ground, hoping her curtain of hair could hide her growingly red face. She heard Blaise's laughter die down, and shook her head slightly at his obvious enjoyment of their predicament. "Well," he continued, still chuckling, "I just came up to escort you out of the dungeons. The rest of the Slytherins have gone to the Great Hall for dinner," he explained, "so the common room is conveniently empty for your exit." Ginny finally looked back up at him, once she was sure that her face no longer resembled a tomato.  
  
"How did you get me in here in the first place?" she asked, her earlier anger returning. "The last I remember, we were talking... _outside_!" She really did not like to be manipulated – and she hated waking up in unusual surroundings... especially unusual dungeon surroundings.  
  
"Yes, well..." he trailed off, obviously wary of the growingly irritated girl before him, "I thought you could use some sleep –"  
  
"So you put a charm on me?" She was not happy about this.  
  
"Umm," Blaise glanced at Draco, and Ginny followed his gaze to see the blonde smirking in amusement at his house mate's obvious discomfort. She looked back to Blaise to see that he had straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin a bit, and was looking down on her in a way that she had seen the members of her family and the trio do on countless occasions – it was the 'I know what is best for you' look. "You needed to rest, I simply ensured that you received some... Besides, it's not like you have never used magic on me before." Blaise raised one dark brow, and Ginny rolled her eyes at the fact that he was still annoyed by her use of a calming charm on him the day some of the Gryffindors had turned on her.  
  
"Fine," she ground out, but she made a note to herself to be wary of that 'big-brother' stance he had taken. Right now, she preferred to get out of Slytherin territory as soon as possible. More specifically, she wanted to get away from Draco Malfoy, whose steaming kisses she could still feel tingling the skin of her neck. "Let's go then."  
  
Blaise simply turned and walked back to the dormitory door, while Ginny followed behind him. "Coming, Draco?" he questioned, turning back once he had reached the entrance. Ginny looked to the blonde, who was watching her with guarded eyes. She could not tell what he was thinking, but she worried that he may be regretting having kissed her as he had.  
  
"No," he responded curtly, his eyes still trained on the red head. Ginny was not so sure she was happy with this response, although just moments before she had wanted to be out of his presence. She tried not to see his answer as a rejection to her, personally, but the return of his emotionally- detached mask stung deeply. She bit down on her lower lip, and turned away from the Slytherin Prince before he could see the pain in her eyes. She raised her eyes to Blaise, as he stood in front of her, glaring at Draco. She laid a light hand on his arm, forcing his sight to shift to her. She forced a smile she did not feel, and tilted her head to the side a bit to indicate that they should leave. Blaise nodded, cast one last look towards Draco – this one seemed to hold both anger and disappointment – before taking her hand and turning to leave the room.  
  
Blaise led her down the stairs to the not-so empty common room. Pansy Parkinson stood from her seat on one of the sofas, and waited for the pair to reach her. She did not look surprised to see Ginny in the Slytherin common room. Ginny assumed that Blaise had already informed her.  
  
"Where is Draco?" she questioned, looking a bit concerned. "Is he not coming for dinner?" Blaise only shrugged, obviously unwilling to discuss the topic of their fair-haired friend at the moment. Parkinson simply nodded, though Ginny could tell that the Slytherin had many questions she would want answered later. "Sleep well, Weasley?" she asked instead now. "Blaise said you were having a bit of a lie-down on his bed."  
  
So that had been Blaise's bed? Hmm... "It was fine, Parkinson," she replied genially. She really was beginning to like the older girl.  
  
"Good," Parkinson replied, and there was no hint of malice, scorn, or sarcasm in her tone. "We had better get to the Great Hall then," she continued, "dinner has already begun." Blaise nodded, and Ginny followed the two sixth year students to the Great Hall, entering with them, uncaring of her house mates' opinions.

.

.  
  
Draco contemplated his position as he stared unseeingly up at the canopy above his bed. He knew that Blaise was upset with him, but he would deal with that later...  
  
He had kissed Ginny Weasley.  
  
Not her pink pouty lips... but he had tasted her fragrant flesh. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue as he discerned the flavor of her – slightly salty, but sweet – and recalled how her heartbeat had raced under his ministrations. Draco groaned, and tried to rid himself of the memories.  
  
He should not have done it – he knew this. It was her fault really: she had laid her soft fingers on his lips, and all he could imagine was feeling more of her. She had quickly taken her hand away when she realized their positions, and she had looked so cute in her embarrassment that he could not hold in his amusement. But then she had smiled, capturing him, and he had just had to savor her, feel her, caress her. His desire for her at that moment had been too strong, and he could not resist the temptation that had been placed before him.  
  
But it could not – and would not – happen again. He would have to stay away from her. He was still Draco Malfoy, descended from the noble lines of Black and Malfoy. She was a _Weasley_, for gods' sakes. He had duties and responsibilities, and honor to his family names that he must uphold.  
  
But, _gods_, the taste of her still stayed on his tongue, and her drugging scent still invaded his pores. Holding her, nibbling on her pale milky neck had affected him more than even sex with some of his random girls ever had. He was somewhat grateful now that he had strategically avoided her delectable-looking lips, saving some of his sanity at least. Had Blaise not interrupted, however...  
  
But Blaise _had_ arrived, and Ginny had pulled away from him. She would not even look at him, and seemed much too eager to get away from him. So Draco had not followed down to the common room – he would allow her time to recover, as he himself had needed. Now that he was free of her presence – and much more capable of thinking clearly – he knew what he must do.

.

.  
  
Ginny smiled as Luna spoke excitedly about a supposed sighting of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack that had been reported in this issue of _The Quibbler_. Apparently, her father would be taking her to South America this summer, to see if they could find the mythic creatures themselves. Luna, who had been quite disappointed when their search for Siberian Crupses over the Christmas holidays had turned out to be in vain, was quite hopeful for success on this new expedition. Ginny gratefully concentrated as her friend expanded on the properties of this beast, pushing all thoughts of smirking blondes out of her head.  
  
Dinner had been uneventful – except for the random glares she received from other Gryffindors, especially the Dream Team. Relations with Slytherins were looked down upon, but Ginny did not care. She would not give up her friendship with Blaise for any of her house mates. So after a mostly silent meal with Colin and Neville, Ginny had met Luna at the entrance of the Great Hall, and the two girls decided to walk up to the Astronomy Tower, where they were sitting and chatting now.  
  
Well, Luna was chatting, while Ginny tried to keep her mind from wandering to Draco Malfoy. She took a deep breath, and she could have sworn that his scent still surrounded her. This could not happen. He was a Malfoy, and she was a Weasley, and...  
  
And he made her feel things she had never thought possible. Would it really be so wrong for them to be together: a Gryffindor and a Slytherin?  
  
"Ginny?" Luna's voice cut through the red head's silent pondering. Ginny focused her glazed eyes on the girl before her once more, smiling a bit sheepishly as she was asked, "Were you listening?" Luna's face took on a worried look as she studied her friend. "What's wrong, Ginny?"  
  
Ginny shrugged slightly. It was just like Luna not to be upset that Ginny had not been listening to her, but to instead be immediately worried about what was bothering the young Gryffindor. "It's nothing, Luna," she offered, knowing that Luna would not accept that response, but hoping to buy some time. She was right: Luna simply crossed her arms, and looked back at Ginny, waiting for her to admit the truth. Ginny sighed loudly, then quickly took out her wand to cast a silencing charm around them – it would not do for _anyone_ to overhear this conversation... "Draco Malfoy... kind of... er-... kissed me," she stuttered out, staring at the floor. She looked up to see Luna watching her with a serene expression on her face.  
  
"Was it nice?" was all she asked. Ginny was astounded – wasn't the Ravenclaw angry or disappointed that Ginny had been necking with a Slytherin?  
  
"Umm, he kind of just sucked on my neck..." she looked to see if Luna was upset yet, but if her friend was angry, she hid it well. "It was nice, yeah," she admitted, allowing a small smile to return to her face.  
  
"That's great, Ginny," Luna said sincerely. Ginny could not take it any longer.  
  
"Luna! He is a Slytherin!" she exclaimed, unsure as to why she was arguing a point she usually defended. "And a Malfoy!"  
  
"So?" Luna questioned. "I thought you were friends with Blaise Zabini?"  
  
"I am friends with Blaise," Ginny confirmed, "but Blaise is not Draco Malfoy." She avoided looking in Luna's eyes by playing with the frayed ends of her robes. "It's just different with Draco," she finished quietly.  
  
"Why?" It was a valid question. Why was it different with Draco?  
  
Because she was not really 'friends' with Draco Malfoy, as she was with Blaise. She had never considered kissing Blaise, not since their encounter on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of the school year...  
  
But with Draco – touching him, kissing him, being with him was all that she thought of...  
  
"It's complicated," Ginny answered pathetically. Luna seemed properly unimpressed.  
  
"I think it will be fine, Ginny," she offered in support. "He seems to be different this year, than he was before..." Ginny had to agree with her there. "Or perhaps his doppelganger returned to Hogwarts in his stead," she mused. Ginny simply laughed at that suggestion, and Luna offered a dreamy smile, obviously pleased with her friend's reaction. "So, how is your O.W.L. studying going?" she asked, smoothly and efficiently shifting the topic to the upcoming exams.  
  
Ginny only groaned, and the two girls spent the next ninety minutes bemoaning the long hours of study, and too few hours of sleep. They finally decided to head back to their own common rooms, so as to be well- rested for the next day of classes. After leaving Luna in a hallway diverging paths to the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms, Ginny realized that she had Prefect rounds that night, so she decided to wander around for a bit before her shift would start. Luckily, she was not too tired due to the nap she had had that afternoon, and her duties aligned nicely with the fact that she did not particularly want to deal with her house mates, or the Dream Team, just yet.

.

.  
  
He should not have skipped dinner, Draco decided, as he made his way to the kitchens from the dungeons. Curfew had begun ten minutes ago, but he was hungry, and needed nourishment, or he would never get any sleep that night. His trip to the kitchens was actually quite uneventful – he managed to stay out of the ways of Filch, Mrs. Norris, and whichever Prefect was patrolling the lower levels of the castle that night (another Prefect would be in charge of the upper floors, he knew). After satisfying his appetite, Draco left the kitchens, heading back to his dorm, only to come across the Prefect on duty. The fates had to be toying with him, he was sure, as he caught sight of the small red head a bit down the corridor. He stopped, and leaned against the wall, waiting for her to reach him, and chanting _She's only a Weasley!_ repeatedly in his head.  
  
"Draco," she said quietly, once she stood before him – he noticed she was avoiding looking at him. "What are you doing out of the Slytherin dungeons now?" He only shrugged, waiting for her to look up at him after the silent response. And she did. "I could take points, you know?" she smiled slightly, though he could tell she was nervous.  
  
"You could," he replied simply, coolly. He tried not to bang his head against the wall as her smile faltered at his tone, and she looked away again. But this was what needed to happen – what had transpired in his room earlier could not be repeated.  
  
"You should just get back to the dungeons," she suggested, moving to walk around him, probably to continue down the path of the hallway. He caught her scent as she passed, and – unthinkingly – he turned swiftly, grabbing her arm gently and pulling her around. He ignored her look of surprise as he pressed her back against the wall, leaning against her small form.  
  
_He shouldn't be doing this..._  
  
His eyes darkened as they focused on her tongue, watching it slide partially out of her mouth as she licked her lips nervously.  
  
_This was wrong...  
_  
He leaned his head down, resting his forehead against her own, locking his gaze with hers.  
  
_She was a _Weasley_; and he was a Malfoy, damnit..._  
  
He tilted his head, and felt her lashes brush against his cheek as her eyes fluttered shut in time with his own.  
  
_Gods, help him, because he could not stop...  
_  
He finally let his lips claim what they had craved for so long: her own lips.

* * *

Continuing on with our lives as normally as possible after devastating attacks, to show terrorists that they have not won... -President George W. Bush, after September 11, 2001

Author's Notes:

Ginnyrules890: Thanks for the review… I'm glad you are enjoying the story. Please continue to read and let me know what you think!

Obviously Oblivious: Aw, thanks so much for letting me know what you think! Please keep reading and reviewing!

Helena: Thanks for the support when I had decided to stick with the name Virginia for Ginny… I had really been quite disconcerted to learn her real first name, which had been the same day that I posted Chapter 4; so I had not been very receptive to the idea. But after letting the fact sink in for a week – and after spending WAY too much time on JKR's website (great fun, by the way) – I realized that that was her name, and the fact was not going to change… And, actually, the name has kind of grown on me. Anyway, sorry if you preferred Virginia, but she is actually mostly referred to as Ginny in the fic (I only had to change her name about five or six times when I went back to revise earlier chapters); right, so now that that is out of the way… Thanks so much for the review! It's nice to hear that people are enjoying my story, so please keep reading and letting me know what you think. Oh, and also a big thanks for your very sweet review of "The Reason!"

Regs: "…the most realistic change in Draco I've seen written" …um, wow, THANKS! That is such a huge compliment – you have no idea how many times I have gone back to change things cuz I was sure that Draco was getting to be OOC; reading your review totally made me feel so good about where I was taking Draco and Ginny in my story… I hope that Chapter 5 stayed true to your assessment – please let me know what you think of it. And thanks so much for reading!

xmag: Another long review… and you included a theory this time! Ah, you always do get me thinking… and I have to admit your theory was definitely interesting to read. You are right, and Ginny does owe Harry a wizard's debt. And there are definite parallels between the Malfoys and Weasleys, and the Montagues and Capulets. BUT, I read on JKR's site that Ginevra Weasley was the first female born into the Weasley clan for several generations... This leads me to believe that she won't die in either of the next two books – if she is the first girl born in such a large family for who knows how long, it has to be for a reason, and I can't really see her being killed off (that could just be my wishful thinking, though…). As for the feel of Book 5, yes, it was definitely different from the others… (And I am sorry to hear about the loss of your mother.) Anyway, I'm glad you liked Chapter 4: I tried to show the harsh realities of war, without the situation getting too bloody – I'm honored that you found it "powerful," (such a great compliment, by the way). Oh, and a huge thanks for your review of "The Reason." Your right: if Blondie-Bear (aka Spike) can turn good, then so can Drakey-kins (aka Draco) – don't worry, I'll never refer to him as Drakey-kins in the fic… :)

VAB: Heya! Ah, so glad you like the fic. Of course, we talked about Dumbledore and Ron, so keep reading for some changes on those fronts… Thanks so much for the sweet review, and sorry I've been MIA online for the past few days – unfortunately, my computer decided that now was a good time to die on me, so I have commandeered my dear brother's computer to post this update, while searching for the perfect laptop (Yay!)… I hope you enjoyed Chapter 5, and please let me know what you think of it – I love hearing from you!

Athena Linborn: It's so nice to hear that you enjoyed Chapter 4, and Ginny's view of the Gryffindors… As for your questions, Ginny cannot be inducted into the Order until she is 17 (of legal wizarding age), unless Molly Weasley gives permission before-hand, but don't hold your breath for that… Dumbledore is wise, and pretty much all-knowing, so he definitely has his eye on our little Gin-girl: if you recall, he did try to convince Molly Weasley to let Ginny come to the Order meetings the previous summer (a conversation which Ginny overheard). As for what is going on in the war, we will learn about it as Ginny, or Draco, does… don't worry, it will happen. But right now I am not sure how much of the war will be seen, cuz Ginny will be kept out of the loop for quite a while (damn over-protective family that can't see she has grown up…); that does not mean, however, that nothing exciting and Voldemort-related with happen in the story… :) Anyway, thanks so much for another great review, and please let me know what you think of Chapter 5. Oh, and a big 'thank-you' for your very sweet review of "The Reason." It's going on your favorites? You're the best!

Eve Granger: Short and sweet… thanks for letting me know that you are enjoying the story! Please keep reading and reviewing.

Jungels: So glad to hear that you are enjoying the story! I actually did not realize until after I had written the Colin/Blaise pairing, just how popular it had become in the DG fanfic realm, but the two really won't be seen together a lot – there just isn't enough room in what I have outlined for any real interaction between them, apart from little updates given from Ginny or Draco's perspective… I'm glad you like the scene with Parvati – it was one that I debated about internally for quite a while; as for your comment regarding whether Ginny would really curse everyone in the common room, I have to agree that the old Ginny probably wouldn't – but that Ginny is no longer around. The story is about changes in both Ginny and Draco: the changes in Draco may be more obvious, as he seems to be getting a bit more tolerant of non-purebloods as he moves further off the path of a Death Eater, but Ginny is changing and growing as well – a bit away from her overshadowing and over-protective family, as well as the purely Gryffindoric ideals she has lived with all her life. I definitely see the hesitancy in believing she would do something like that, and it was something I considered carefully, before realizing that there was a lot more to Ginny Weasley than anyone – even I – had realized… Anyway, thanks tons for reading, and please let me know what you think of Chapter 5.

Karen1: Aw, thanks so much for that very sweet review! It's good to know that you like where this story is going… I can only hope that Chapter 5 lived up to any expectations you had… Please let me know what you think of it.

maz: So glad you like it... Thanks for reading, and please continue to let me know what you think!

lina: Sorry, but yes, Ginny's name is definitely Ginevra (it is posted on JKR's own official website); I had heard previously that JKR revealed in an interview that her middle name was Molly, so I guess her full name is Ginevra Molly Weasley… hmm… Well, anyway, thanks for reading!

ocean eyes: I'm so glad you made an exception for my fic! So you really like it? Aw, your review was so sweet! I try to stick to the characters JKR introduced as well as possible, but I am glad that you like the changes I have made to them, as they grow and change in respect to what is going on around them… I had actually heard about JKR's site revealing Ginny's name, but thanks for the heads-up: as you can see, I've decided to revise my story to reflect this newly discovered fact (Ginevra, as a name, really has grown on me…) Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and please let me know what you think of Chapter 5!

NOTE 1: A bit of bad news... my computer has decided to die on me... Oh, the sadness! Not really, though, cuz now I'm getting a new laptop. Don't worry, I'm still writing, and I do have access to a computer to post updates in the mean time -- I just wanted to warn all of my wonderful readers that the next few chapters may not be up as quickly as the first five were (but nothing longer than a two-week lag, I promise), cuz I now have to _share _(oh, the horror!) the other computer in the house, while waiting for my own new one... (sigh).

NOTE 2: Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know what you think. 


	6. Chapter Six

**Title:** Veritas Amo

**Author:** Rosa di Corte

**Category:** Romance/Mystery

**Pairing:** Draco/Ginny, Ginny/Draco

**Summary:** Amidst the Second War, in a changing world, two people – Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy – find themselves; and each other... D/G

**Spoilers:** Books 1-5; Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them; Quidditch Through the Ages

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, and Warner Bros., among others. Only the plot and any unfamiliar characters are mine. 

* * *

**CHAPTER 6  
**  
Ginny thought the sheer pleasure would overwhelm her. Draco's soft lips moved gently, but insistently, over hers, and her hesitation was non- existent in responding to the touch of his hot mouth. Her own lips welcomed his – almost without her consent – as she abandoned herself to the moment. There was an alarm sounding in the back of her mind, warning her of the danger he could pose – both emotionally and physically, if he followed his father's Death Eater path – but it was so distant, drowned out by the sensations Draco's touch caused in her. As he lightly tugged her bottom lip between his teeth, sucking sweetly at the pink flesh, she let her body arch against his – away from the cool stone wall her back had been pressed against – and her hands came up to rest on his chest. He seemed to take that as an invitation, and slipped his tongue out to meet her swollen flesh. She gasped slightly at the contact, and he quickly seized the opportunity to slip his tongue between her parted lips, and into her own sweet, moist mouth. She heard him groan as her hands moved up to clutch his shoulders, while he deepened their kiss, and she sighed into his mouth in response. His hands, it seemed, could no longer remain inactive. His left hand came to rest softly on her hip, as the other traced lightly over her extended arm, up past her shoulder, and fisted itself in her thick, luxurious red locks.  
  
Finally, the need for oxygen overpowered them, and they pulled apart, both breathing heavily, welcoming the air to their lungs. Draco buried his face in Ginny's silky hair, and moved the hand that had rested on her hip, to wrap his arm around her small waist. Ginny allowed him to draw her closer, all the while trying to gather her thoughts about what had just happened. He had kissed her... Draco Malfoy had kissed her.  
  
And she had kissed him back.  
  
And liked it...  
  
Her short analysis of the situation was cut off by the feel of his scorching mouth, nipping, sucking, and biting its way along her throat. Instinctively, Ginny let her head arch the side, exposing the smooth skin of her neck so that he could taste more of her. She could not suppress the moan that left her lips as he used the arm that had been wrapped around her waist to pull her up slightly, and settle his thigh between hers, before pushing his body even closer to hers, all the while working his mouth against the flesh running between the lobe of her ear and her collar bone. It felt like every part of her body was touching some part of his, and it was as though her skin was on fire. In her elevated position, Ginny easily slid her hands up from Draco's shoulders, and into his own loose, soft blond mane. His attention was still focused on the creaminess of her neck, but Ginny wanted his lips back on hers. Feeling extremely bold, she used the hands that were locked in his hair to guide him back to her waiting mouth.  
  
This time she initiated the kiss. It was much more passionate than the last had been, as any reservations either had held seemed to have deserted them – along with all thoughts of anything other than the person they were with. Ginny could feel her heart pounding within her; it created a lovely rhythm with the beat of his own hammering heart, which she could feel as one of her hands slid down from his velvety locks to rub against his toned back. They held each other close, lost in their searing kiss, gladly drowning in one another...  
  
Until the screeching meow of Mrs. Norris warned of Filch's imminent arrival, causing them to pull apart quickly. After shaking her head slightly to clear her mind of the passion-induced haze, Ginny warily watched to see if Draco would look at her; or if he would regret this 'exchange' as he seemed to have the last one. He did not look at her; instead he swore softly, grabbed her hand, and pulled her along – presumably in the opposite direction of Mrs. Norris. Ginny stayed quiet, and let him lead her through various corridors, although she was the Prefect on duty, and had permission to be out in the halls. She needed to understand what was going on between them. She needed to speak with him... and now seemed to be as good a time as any. Draco finally pulled them into a classroom that Ginny had never visited before. As he shut the door behind them, and leaned against it – obviously listening for signs of Filch, or professors who could punish them – she looked around the room. It had most certainly not been used in quite some time, if the layer of dust was any indication; otherwise, it looked very much like the Transfiguration classroom. After her cursory examination of the old room, Ginny let her eyes fall back onto Draco, who was now looking at her with a guarded expression.  
  
"Draco," she began nervously – she did not know what she should say, but she knew that _something_ had happened between them, and they needed to talk about it. Draco, it seemed, however, did not feel that the situation warranted discussion, for he cut her off.  
  
"It should be safe to go now," he stated quietly. "I should get back to the dungeons before anyone else can come across us, and your Prefect rounds are almost over for the night," he finished, vaguely flashing his high- priced wizards' watch.  
  
Ginny was silent for a moment, considering their current predicament: they needed to talk, but she supposed he was right – now really was not a safe time to do so. They would have to meet up later; that is, if he did not brush the whole incident off as nothing. With everything that she had felt when he had kissed her, she prayed that that would not happen. She looked at him now, and nodded slightly to show her agreement to his suggestion. She tried to speak, to ask if he would seek her out at another time, so they could explore whatever it was that they had shared mere minutes before, but her voice seemed to have abandoned her. She did not know if it was fear of rejection, or her own returning sensibilities reminding her that he was _Draco Malfoy_, that caused her to remain quiet. Whatever the reason, she was left to watch as he smoothly exited the room, without glancing back at her even once. 

.

.  
  
Draco stridently kept his profile forward-facing, and refused to give into the urge to go back to the girl he had just left, take her in his arms and snog her senseless. His hands were shaking in his effort of self- restraint, as he quickly and carefully made his way back to his dorm. He tried not to think about what he had been doing only minutes before-hand; where his hands had lain, where his lips had grazed...  
  
Draco forced down a scream of frustration as he reached his room. He hastily readied for bed, stripping down to his boxers, then throwing on a pair of black silk pajama bottoms, before dropping his body down on the bed and drawing the hangings around to shield him from the moonlight. What had he been thinking? More importantly, had he been thinking? He had decided – after the lapse in control he had suffered earlier that evening – that he would stay away from Ginny Weasley. So how in Merlin's name had he ended up pressed up against her, her lips scalding his, in a dark corridor only a few hours later?  
  
She was murder to his composure, havoc to his senses... He could _not_ let this happen! He was _Draco Malfoy_, damnit! He should have made it clear, after the horrendous exchange that night – something within him twisted at defiling the kisses he had shared with Ginny by assigning such a label, but he pushed it aside – that there could be nothing between them. There _would_ be nothing. Yet when he had looked at her, her hair still mussed from his roaming hands and her lips possessing a luscious 'bee- stung' appearance, he could not bring himself to say the words that would banish her bright presence from his life. Instead, he had fled... Again. This was getting to be a ridiculous habit of his – running from a Weasley...  
  
Pathetic.  
  
He would need to stay away from Ginny Weasley, he decided. That would be easy... if only she would move to another continent, that is. Draco pondered for a few moments the probabilities of her leaving Hogwarts before the end of his seventh year – it didn't look good. Draco sighed quietly, and turned onto one side, determined to get some sleep: Gods knew he would need to be rested to face the feisty red head tomorrow...

.

.  
  
It was after Ginny's last class the next day that she saw the blonde Slytherin again. He had been peculiarly absent from the Great Hall for both breakfast and lunch. And, despite herself, she was worried about him. She hoped fervently that his lack of presence had nothing to do with some wish on his part to avoid her after what had happened the night before. So when she glimpsed a flash of platinum heading towards the dungeons – after having spent a good quarter of an hour discussing her Charms essay with Professor Flitwick – she gathered every ounce of Gryffindor bravery within her and followed. The corridors were sparsely populated, as classes had been let out over fifteen minutes ago, so maneuvering through the halls was not so difficult for Ginny; but overcoming Draco's speed was. She finally caught up with the much taller – and apparently oblivious – boy before he could travel down the stairwell leading to the lower levels of the castle.  
  
"Draco," she called out tentatively – and slightly breathlessly, although she suspected that that was the result of more than just her impromptu jog – hoping to halt his descent. She cringed, seeing him stiffen so abruptly. She knew from his posture that something was dreadfully wrong. She was considering fleeing the situation entirely when the blonde turned to face her, his eyes ice. She could literally feel the chillness of his look travel through her body, before she forced herself to shake it off. "Are you alright?" she asked quietly and, admittedly, a bit fearfully.  
  
"_Weasley_." Oh, gods, how it hurt to hear him say her name like _that _– like she was some type of vermin, simply a disgusting annoyance to him. "I suggest that you refrain from approaching me... if you know what is good for you."  
  
It sounded like a threat.  
  
Ginny was not a savant of the Slytherin psyche, but she knew enough to understand that this was a serious warning... Whether disobedience would render punishment from him, or another source, she was uncertain. "And if I don't..." she decided to test the waters. Apparently, she had a knack for choosing the wrong course of action where this boy was concerned, for he grabbed her then, dragged her roughly down the stairwell, and pushed her through the first door they came upon.  
  
Before the older boy could close the door behind him, Ginny quickly surveyed the room they were in, revealing a few mops, buckets, and containers of magical mess remover... They were in a broom closet. Somehow, Ginny didn't think Draco had brought her in there to partake in the activities that most other students sought broom closets out for.  
  
As darkness engulfed the pair, Ginny tried to stay her growing temper. What did he think he was doing, man-handling her in such a way? Her anger was abruptly displaced by fear, however, as his large hands – with those amazingly long, elegant fingers that had run through her hair only _last night_ – enclosed around her waist, and pushed her back against the wall.  
  
"Weasley," his voice was a bit softer now, than it had been in the hallway, and he did not spit her surname out like it was one of Madame Pompfrey's vile potions. But he was still so _cold_. "I think you have misunderstood." Ginny stiffened in his harsh embrace, realizing what was coming. She had known that this was going to happen – she had expected it. Draco Malfoy cared for no one but himself. Girls were playthings to him... Hadn't she told herself that this was inevitable? _Then why did this _hurt_ so much?_ "It was one kiss, Weasley." There was no emotion in his voice at all, and Ginny willed her eyes to stay dry – he did not deserve her tears. "And it was a mistake. Call it... temporary insanity, if you will," he pushed away from her, releasing his hold while stepping back. "I assure you, it will not happen again." And then he was gone – he had opened the door and slipped out, once again not even glancing back to look at the girl he was leaving.  
  
Ginny slowly slid down along the wall, letting the tears finally come now. As her bottom rested on the closet floor, she wrapped her arms around her bent knees, and buried her face in the bunched up fabric of her tatty school robe, trying to stifle the sobs that escaped her. A small sliver of light from the partially opened door dimly illuminated her surroundings once more. But Ginny saw nothing of this...  
  
She thought her heart had been ripped apart when Harry had asked Cho Chang to the Yule Ball in her third year, leaving Ginny to painstakingly put it back together alone. But this,_ this_ was so much worse... She had had no idea that Draco's – no, _Malfoy's _– rejection could cause her so much pain.  
  
She was so _stupid_. What had she expected? That he would strip off that icy armor of his, and pursue a relationship with her?  
  
A _relationship_?  
  
Ginny almost laughed aloud at the absurd notion, but her tears were still flowing much too strongly to allow that. Draco Malfoy did not have serious relationships with girls. He snogged them, shagged them, and left them. She _knew_ this. She thought she had accepted it as fact, and had understood that there could never be anything real between them. Apparently, her heart had had different ideas...  
  
Ginny's crying eventually tapered off, leaving her red faced, with puffy eyes, and the occasional tear streaking down her cheek. She stayed in her hidden position until the noise of the passing Slytherins, on their way to dinner in the Great Hall, roused her from her sorry state. Determinedly creeping onto her knees, she hastily wiped away the remnants of her tears as she stood. After slightly stretching the limbs that had stayed dormant in an uncomfortable position for too long, she stood at the door of the closet for a few more minutes, debating what to do next. She could not go to the Great Hall – she was certain she looked a mess, and she did not feel like fending off questions from concerned friends or housemates for the next hour or so. She could cast a spell to fix her appearance, but she really was not that hungry, so why put herself through the torture of having to pretend she was just fine? She deftly avoided admitting to herself that she did not want to see Draco Malfoy – preferably ever again, but she was realistically narrowing her objective down to tonight – and that the blond Prince was undoubtedly holding court at the Slytherin table at this very moment. He was probably laughing about her with his cronies right now... The spark of anger that erupted within her at that thought momentarily overwhelmed the immense sadness and heartbreak that had been weighing on her. Fury, it seemed, would be her saving grace.  
  
Draco Malfoy would pay for this, Ginny decided.

.

.  
  
Draco lay on his bed, alone in his room. His dorm mates were at dinner now, but Draco had decided to skip this meal, just as he had skipped breakfast and lunch earlier that day. He had spent the day in somewhat of a daze, lagging behind in his travels to each class, seeking as much solitude as could be afforded on a school day.  
  
Too much was happening... And everything was going wrong.  
  
Draco shifted to lie on his stomach, burying his face in a soft pillow. At this point, he wasn't sure if self-suffocation was really such a bad idea...  
  
He turned his head slightly after a minute, and let out a quiet sigh. His thoughts returned once more to the encounter he had shared with a certain small red head earlier that afternoon – it had been all he could think about since leaving her in the broom closet.  
  
He should not have been so cruel – she would never forgive him for this, he knew. _But,_ he tried to convince himself, _this is how it has to be_. And, really, she was only a _Weasley_. And they had only shared one kiss... Okay, maybe two kisses and some random necking, but it wasn't like he hadn't had better. The truth was, he _hadn't _had better, but Draco was not about to admit that to himself.  
  
This was all Lucius' fault.  
  
Draco had received a package from his mother early in the morning, which had slightly surprised him, as she had not sent those silly sweets since before Lucius had been sent to Azkaban, and regular post had not been due for another hour at least. But then Draco had read the accompanying letter: it was completely inconspicuous, and was written in the same forced sweet cheer that his mother's notes had held in earlier years.  
  
The message had been clear: The bastard was back at Malfoy Manor.  
  
Draco had felt utterly sick at the knowledge that Narcissa was once more under Lucius' watchful eye. And then he had realized what this meant for him: No doubt, _daddy dearest_ would be checking in on his heir. Draco had no idea how to react to the man who had once been his idol, but now made him cringe in disgust. It did not take him long to realize, however, that it would be in his best interest – as well as his mother's – to pretend that nothing had changed.  
  
And that meant getting Ginny Weasley out of his life.  
  
_Well_, he thought sardonically, _I'm fairly certain I accomplished _that_.  
_  
But, really, what had she been thinking, approaching him in the corridor? So what if it had been an otherwise empty hallway – anyone could have seen them together! They had been near the dungeons, so any one of the Slytherins could have been dragging behind in getting back to the common room... If someone _had _seen them, the news would undoubtedly travel through the school, and then straight to his father.  
  
Draco suppressed a shudder at the thought of what Lucius could do to the small girl.  
  
No, that man had already caused her too much pain already – what with that stunt he had pulled with Voldemort's old diary... Draco would not let it happen again. So if he had to be harsh and cruel to the little sprite to protect her, then he would.  
  
Gods, he was starting to think like a _Gryffindor_, sacrificing his happiness for her safety... Perhaps he had miscalculated somehow: those Gryffs were definitely not known for their strength in strategy. Although, Ron Weasley's impressive defeat of McGonagall's chess set in first year had shown amazing potential in the tall, lanky boy...  
  
Thoughts of Weasley, the ugly, only led Draco back to thoughts of Ginny. He had wanted so badly to kiss her again as he had held her tightly earlier – all too aware of the fact that he would probably never be able to hold her again – even as he told her that he felt nothing. He had forced his voice to reveal none of what he had been feeling, and had silently thanked every deity who would listen for the darkness in the broom closet – he could not have said those things to her if he had actually had to look at her pixie face, or into her bright eyes...  
  
And she surely would have seen the lie plainly in his own features, as he had been unable to hide them behind his customary cool mask.  
  
Draco rolled onto his side, and stared unseeingly at his drawn bed hangings. There was no use in ruminating over the situation now: it was over. And, really, it was for the best; he should never have been mixed up with her in the first place. Draco tried to be pleased as he accepted the truth – Ginny Weasley was out of his life...  
  
Or so he thought.

.

.  
  
The last few weeks of the school year were marked by an increase in assignments, as the professors decided that _more_ homework was the best way to help students prepare for final exams and their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s. Draco found himself spending hours trying to stay on top of his growing workload, while simultaneously worrying over his mother and trying to avoid Ginny Weasley. He, Pansy, and Blaise – whom Ginny had apparently _not_ told about their late-night kiss, or its aftermath – stayed in the Slytherin common room most evenings, carefully poring over books, notes, and old exams. In some respects, Draco was grateful for the distraction, which sometimes let him forget that his mother was currently at Lucius' mercy, and that any time that he did see Ginny, her eyes held something that looked suspiciously like hatred towards him. But she did not hate him; no, she _could not_ hate him – Draco did not think he would be able to bear it if she did. His only relief came from the fact that they had not spoken to each other since the encounter in the broom closet, so any negative feelings she held for him now were only theoretical, and not confirmed. Draco unwillingly clung to the small hope that perhaps – just perhaps – things between them were not bullocksed up too unredeemably.  
  
But he would never act on any reluctant desire he still held on to. He _could not_.  
  
The Sunday before the week of final exams – or O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s for fifth and seventh years, respectively – found Draco once again immersed in an ancient tome for one of his classes. Pansy had given up an hour ago, complaining that she needed a break, or she would never get through the coming week; Blaise was also absent, and Draco tried not to think about the probability that he was spending the evening with the youngest Weasley. Draco had just finished one scroll of notes, and was reaching for another piece of blank parchment when someone sat down at his table – and it was _his_ table, every Slytherin knew that. Draco was about to irately tell whoever was stupid enough to disturb his study time to bugger off – in a much more malicious, Malfoy fashion, of course – when the girl across from him spoke.  
  
"Hello, Draco," she said in a soft, breathy voice. Draco looked up with a blank face – reserving his glare should the intruder continue to annoy him – to see Veronica Dolohov with a small smirk on her face. He only raised one eyebrow in response, silently questioning what the girl thought she was doing interrupting _him_. Draco knew that the fourth year girl was quite popular among some of his male housemates – even a few of the seventh year boys – but he had never really acknowledged her before. She was quite pretty, he had noted that much, in his preliminary analysis of his younger housemate – a procedure he had conducted with every Slytherin, before determining whether they were worthy of his attention, or his dismissal. The lithe, sporty girl before him – with her light brown hair, cut stylishly short, and her deep ocean blue eyes – had been saved from his customary dismissal by the fact that her uncle, Antonin Dolohov, was the reigning Lord of the House of Dolohov. Well, at least he had been before his status had changed from Lord, to prisoner of Azkaban, to escaped convict. House Dolohov was therefore currently under the control of Veronica's own father, Claude Dolohov, until her cousin Morgan Rutherford Dolohov was ready to take his rightful place at the Head in his father's absence.  
  
"Dolohov," he replied curtly, when she had not immediately answered his unspoken query. She shifted slightly, and he could see the nervousness she was trying to mask behind her aqua eyes. He did nothing to ease her slight suffering, and simply smirked, still waiting – quite patiently, he would argue – for her excuses.  
  
"Well, Draco," she began – purposely affecting her tone to be sweet and seductive, he noted – "I just saw you sitting here, all alone, and I thought you might want some company." She smiled, apparently pleased with the obvious invitation she had imbedded in her words. Draco's face betrayed no emotion. Really, the younger girl quite amused him, thinking that she could seduce him. But then a flash of another girl – one with hair the color of crimson – invaded his mind, and he could not bear to be in the presence of the Slytherin temptress a moment longer.  
  
"You thought wrongly, I assure you," he bit out coldly, his voice holding a note of finality. Dolohov flushed slightly, obviously not having expected this response. Draco could not really blame the girl her confusion – only a few months ago, he would have gladly led her up to his room, and spent a few hours enjoying what she was offering up so willingly. But that had been before... well, before Ginny Weasley.  
  
"Alright then," she attempted to redeem some face in his presence. He gave no visible response, so she stood then, still flustered. "Perhaps another time," she left the offer open, turning swiftly and strutting back to a group of girls from her own year in one corner of the common room. Draco watched her go, silently wondering what the bloody hell had happened to him that he was turning down sex from a beautiful girl. He let out a quiet sigh, and turned back to his assignment – he still had hours of work ahead of him.

.

.  
  
Ginny threw herself onto her bed after another long day of studying for her O.W.L.s. She could not wait for the awful exams to just be _over_. The only bright spot in the day had been the few hours of break she had taken with Colin, Luna, and Blaise. Blaise had actually been dragged along – he had repeatedly insisted that he had work to do, but the three fifth years had sequestered him to the Room of Requirement with them.  
  
Ginny smiled slightly as she recalled Blaise's reaction to her crazy friends. While he knew Colin fairly well, he had never really spent any time with Luna before; so it was interesting to see their interaction. It was clear to Ginny that Blaise found the Ravenclaw quite amusing, but not in a cruel sense: He never once became impatient with her dreamy and wandering trains of thought, or when she became excited about theories that others would find utterly ludicrous. He was actually quite respectful, and even offered his own off-the-wall speculations. Ginny had known that Blaise – for all his Slytherin coolness, and noble Zabini high-class mannerisms – could be quite silly, really. But it had taken months before he had shown her that much lighter side to him. With Luna, it was almost immediate, and the two had spent most of the two-hour break discussing the sighting of the Lyserian Mammodor, reported in this month's issue of _The Quibbler_. It had been nice to see him so at ease, for Ginny had noted that he recently seemed quite distressed about something.  
  
Oh, it was not obvious. He still looked the part of the cold-hearted Slytherin to the rest of the school, but Ginny could read the worry in his eyes. She had attempted to speak with him about whatever it was that was obviously bothering him, but he delicately told her that it was too soon for him to say anything. But he had promised to come to her if the situation – whatever it was – persisted...  
  
Ginny knew that it had something to do with Voldemort. What else could have Blaise in such a state of distress? And, she _knew_, though he was a Slytherin, he did _not _support the Dark Lord. She understood that that could not be an easy position for him.  
  
That was partially the reason she had not told him about what had happened between her and Dra – Malfoy. Blaise already had enough to concern himself with without adding the burden of the knowledge that his best mate had hurt her. She knew Blaise would have confronted Malfoy, and their friendship may have suffered. As it was, Ginny was quite certain that Blaise suspected that something had happened between her and the Malfoy heir, as they had avoided each other since that fateful exchange in the broom closet. Blaise perceptively refrained from saying anything regarding the matter to her directly, though – a fact for which she was immensely grateful.  
  
There was so much going on around them, everything was changing or falling apart, and Ginny knew that it was not only her world that was in turmoil. At a time of such danger and uncertainty, she refused to be the cause of a rift between Blaise and one of his oldest and closest confidants. She had seen their interactions, and knew how they supported each other. These were difficult times, and they needed to rely on one another now more than ever before. So she let her anger with Draco Malfoy lay to rest...  
  
For now.

.

.  
  
The O.W.L.s had been absolutely horrific. Well, Ginny admitted to herself, it could have gone much worse... _At least it's over now_, she thought to herself, as she let her back rest against the trunk of the ancient willow by the lake, shaded from the sun. Beside her, Colin and Neville were engrossed in a game of wizard's chess, and Luna was reading the latest issue of _The Quibbler_. Ginny herself had brought outside a copy of _Les Miserables_ by Victor Hugo – it had been one of the books Hermione had given her for her Birthday/Christmas, and she had been unable to really immerse herself in the thick muggle novel when she had class-work and O.W.L.s- preparation to contend with.  
  
Around her, Ginny noted that the grounds were filled with students lazing about. As exams were over, and students now had a free week before grades were posted, many were taking advantage of the warm weather and the scenic landscape. Many professors were out on the grounds as well, adding security to the heightened magical measures already placed around the grounds. Hogwarts may have been the safest place in the wizarding world, but considering the current state of the magical world, that was not saying much... Still, Ginny thought it was nice that, at least here, she and her classmates could enjoy the first days of summer, without constantly worrying about the threat of imminent danger.  
  
Ginny smiled slightly as her vision landed on the Gryffindor trio: Ron and Harry were attempting to extract Hermione from the large book she was currently obviously engrossed in. The trio was settled in a position farther down the lakeshore, away from Ginny and her friends. She had not really spoken to any of the three sixth years for weeks now, and she found – much to her annoyance – that she missed their occasional company. It felt like it had been ages since she had heard one of Ron's rants regarding the Chudley Cannons' chances of winning the Quidditch World Cup, or one of Hermione's lectures on some obscure spell or artifact, that could easily put any audience to sleep. Ginny even found herself missing Harry's quiet manner.  
  
But she had _asked_ them to stay away from her – at least, until they were willing to accept that she was not a child who was their responsibility to look after and right to order around. Until they came to that realization, Ginny refused to let her slight feelings of longing influence any of her decisions. She would _not _approach them; if they missed her at all – which was proving to be doubtful by the look of things – then they could work to mend their relationships from there. Ginny was certainly not looking forward to another summer cooped up with the three older Gryffindors, but she refused to retreat on her demands...  
  
"Ginny," came Neville's voice. Ginny quickly shifted her eyes away from where they had been trained on the trio, and settled her gaze on the pudgy boy next to her. "Do you want to play a game of wizard's chess?" Ginny simply smiled and nodded, putting aside the book she had been holding quite uselessly in her hands. Colin and Luna seemed to be debating the usefulness of creatures such as Blast-Ended Skrewts – though Ginny, for the life of her, could not imagine why. It was about halfway through her game with Neville – in which the older boy was losing terribly (Ginny _had _learned the game from Ron Weasley, after all) – that a very unwelcome interruption came in the form of one very overgrown ferret.

.

.  
  
"Well, well, if it isn't the Weaslette, and her little friends," Draco drawled, all the while mentally cursing Blaise for forcing him to accompany him onto the heavily-populated grounds, and, more specifically, for bringing him directly to the girl he had been avoiding – successfully, he might add – for weeks now.  
  
"Really, Draco, isn't that getting a bit old?" Draco could see the frustration mounting behind his friend's golden eyes. Draco decided it might be best for him to remain quiet for the rest of the exchange. So he decided to pretend that he was utterly uninterested in the conversation occurring before him, and focused his gaze away from the group under the tree. If he had bothered to even glance in Ginny's direction, he would have seen the flash of pain in her eyes, before it was quickly smothered by a controlled veil of anger. But, alas, he was quite determined to appear enthralled in – yet still utterly indifferent to (as only a Malfoy could) – the activities of the other students. He vaguely recognized that Blaise was questioning the fifth years regarding their thoughts on the O.W.L.s, but only listened long enough to hear Ginny Weasley simply sigh in relief that she was glad it was over.  
  
Draco tried not to think of the last time he had heard her sigh, while his lips were on hers, her hot, sweet breath blowing into his mouth...  
  
_Gods_, he needed to get away, before he went utterly mad trying to keep his hands off of that annoyingly tempting red head.  
  
He was almost grateful – _almost_ – when the great Gryffindor trio showed up on cue to "rescue" the youngest Weasley from the _evil _Slytherins.  
  
"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" The Weasel was turning that horrid shade of red again. Once more, Potter and Granger flanked either side of him. Draco found it quite irritating that he was being verbally assaulted for simply being in the same vicinity as Ron Weasley' little sister. Amusedly, he wondered what the Weasley elder would do if he ever found out how close Draco actually _had_ been to the small girl...  
  
"We were talking to Blaise, Ron, not _Malfoy_," Ginny said; none too kindly, either. Draco hid the wince at hearing her say his surname in such a way, when at one time she had let 'Draco' fall from her lips so enchantingly. Instead, he decided to divert his thoughts by studying the palpable anger present between the two siblings – this was obviously something they had fought over many times before. "Besides, I thought I had made it quite clear that whom I speak with is none of your business. You can go complaining to the whole world, and I still won't change my actions just to suit your preferences." She, as well as her three friends, had stood by now, facing the Dream Team, while Draco stood aside with Blaise and simply watched the dispute. Well, as simply as Slytherins do anything... meaning he watched carefully, noting any weaknesses in either party. Ginny was definitely the more controlled of the two Weasleys, Draco decided.  
  
"It is our business if you are consorting with the children of Death Eaters," Potter cut in. Draco clenched his fist around his wand, desperately tempted to bring the scar-head off of the high hippogriff he insisted on preaching down from. Potter knew _nothing_ of what it was like to grow up the son of a Death Eater. How dare he presume that Draco's uncontrollable parentage made his company unworthy?  
  
"I suggest, Potter," Blaise's voice was smooth and calm, but Draco could hear the rage he was containing, "that you verify the facts before you go around accusing upstanding wizards of being Death Eaters. I assure you, my father is _not_ a Death Eater." He paused, then, and looked at Ginny for a moment, before glancing quickly at Draco and continuing. "And even if he had been one, I don't see how that reflects on the person that I am. _It is our choices that make us who we are_, isn't that so? Or is that a philosophy only reserved for _Gryffindors_," – once more he spat the name – "or those whom _you_ choose worthy?"  
  
"And what choices have you made that should make us consider you worthy of our trust," Granger asked, sounding obnoxiously certain that Blaise would not have a satisfactory response to her query.  
  
"I never asked for you to trust me," was his succinct reply. He smirked at Granger's annoyed expression, and continued. "I have no interest in your judgment or opinion of me. I have proven myself to the only people who _do_ matter," he finished, looking pointedly at Ginny Weasley. Draco's stomach twisted oddly when he saw her direct that adorable smile of hers in Blaise's direction. He quickly looked away, and was surprised to see that Granger actually looked thoughtful. Potter's suspicion was still plainly visible in his features, and Weasley, the large, still appeared upset, but at least he seemed a bit calmer now. Draco concluded that the oaf had finally figured out just how close Ginny and Blaise were, and that their relationship would not change merely because _he_ disapproved.  
  
Ron Weasley was not stupid, Draco conceded mentally, though he would never admit that aloud to any soul. The boy may not get the best grades, and he was utterly pathetic to be tagging along as Potter's side-kick, but his potential had been proven in his first year, during the Dream Team's quest for the Sorceror's Stone. He could have been great... if he had been a Slytherin. His Gryffindor fool-hardy bravery – as well as his blind loyalty to Potter – prevented him from reaching any true success of his own.  
  
But Draco would not forgive the boy his idiocy when it came to his sister. Draco had watched them detachedly for years – as he had watched many students in the school, much the way his father had taught him. Lucius Malfoy believed it was important to be aware of all individuals in one's surroundings; he had taught his son that careful observation was the best way to discover weakness, and how to use that weakness to his advantage. So, while Draco did not necessarily know the names of most of the students in the castle, he had impressively identified and inventoried the failings and limitations of the majority of them.  
  
And Draco had clearly noted that Ron Weasley was utterly oblivious to his sister, unless she did something that he disapproved of or her life was in mortal peril. Their relationship seemed to have improved a bit in his fifth year, when Ginny was on the Gryffindor quidditch team as Potter's replacement. But then it had reverted back this year, for reasons Draco had yet to identify. Ginny had become much better at hiding the pain caused by the rejection as she grew older, while in earlier years, her sorrow had been quite apparent. While Ron Weasley's concern was temperamental, Draco had to admit that the boy did genuinely worry about the small girl – when he found the time to acknowledge her existence, that is.  
  
Looking at the Weasel now, however, Draco saw a combination of emotions he had observed in the tall boy only once before, when little Ginny Weasley had been 'taken' into the Chamber of Secrets.  
  
It was sorrow... And regret.

.

.  
  
The short altercation involving six Gryffindors, two Slytherins, and one Ravenclaw had ended quite abruptly with the arrival of a very familiar snowy owl. The hasty exit of Harry, Ron, and Hermione was only matched in speed by the farewell of Blaise, as Dra- _Malfoy_ stalked off darkly back towards the castle, obviously having had enough of the sun for one day. All in all, Ginny and her friends had decided that the exchange could have gone much worse.  
  
After spending another half hour out on the grounds – with Ginny winning the chess match against Neville – the four students started to head back inside. Ginny had successfully avoided thinking about Draco Malfoy for the past thirty minutes, but now, as she walked idly beside her silent companions, she could not keep her mind from wandering to the blond prat.  
  
He had not even _looked_ at her! She would not have acknowledged him, even if he had, but that was beside the point... Ginny wanted him to suffer the way that she was suffering. The pain that had pierced through her that afternoon in the broom closet still ached like a raw wound when the Slytherin Prince was in her line of sight. She had worked valiantly to keep her anger burning – to not let the pain take over. She only prayed that he could not see how much he had hurt her when his eyes met hers...  
  
Of course, he would actually have to _look_ at her for her efforts to even matter, but he apparently had better things to occupy his time. Ginny bit her lip as she thought of all of the girls he had probably been with since he had so efficiently dumped her. Had he even 'dumped' her? Really, what they had shared had certainly been no serious relationship – no matter how serious Ginny's feelings had been.  
  
And, admittedly, still were.  
  
Ginny gratefully shoved thoughts of Ferret Boy out of her mind when she, Colin, and Neville entered the Gryffindor common room – having parted ways with Luna minutes before – to see the Fabulous Three huddled together in the far corner. She considered then what Hedwig may have been carrying for the trio. _Probably confidential Order information_, she thought sarcastically, with more than a hint of bitterness. She abhorred being treated like an invalid where the war was concerned – she had every right to help the cause that she believed in.  
  
Coming to a swift decision, Ginny signaled for Colin and Neville to go on to their dorms, as she stealthily approached the trio. Ginny was quite adept at remaining unseen if she willed it – and, unfortunately, even if she didn't. How else could she have effectively escaped notice for so long in her first year, while being possessed by Riddle? Little first years usually don't go wandering around dark corridors all by themselves – the Gryffindor trio having been an exception, of course.  
  
"I don't understand how Dumbledore can say not to worry about this." Ginny indistinctly heard Harry's agitated voice, as she settled herself on a nearby couch. Slouching down a bit, she mouthed _Exaudio_, the central active charm used by Fred and George on their extendable ears.  
  
"Well," came Hermione's voice clearly, "perhaps we should just let it go. Professor Dumbledore must know something about all of this that we don't. He would not just stand aside and let someone be hurt!" she argued.  
  
"He stood aside and let Sirius die," Harry bit out, obviously quite upset. Ginny was not at all surprised by the anger in his tone, but she was a bit shocked by the accusation towards the Headmaster.  
  
"Harry," Hermione began, trying to placate the aggravated boy. "Professor Dumbledore was not responsible for Sirius' death; you know that. Yes," she admitted, "he should have been more honest with you from the beginning regarding the prophecy, but he only did what he thought was best."  
  
Ginny barely had time to contemplate what Hermione meant by 'the prophecy' – it couldn't be the same prophecy that Voldmort had been trying to retrieve from the Department of Mysteries, could it? – before Harry cut in irately once more.  
  
"So maybe he's making the same mistake again! We can't just stand aside and wait for Voldemort to find her!" At the back of her mind, Ginny was sure that Ron was cringing at Harry's casual use of the Dark Lord's name. But her primary thoughts were too focused on what Harry had just revealed to focus on such minor details.  
  
Harry was worried that Voldemort would find '_her_'... obviously some girl that he was looking for...  
  
No, it could not be the same...  
  
Although, that would explain the dreams... Was it possible that the dark- haired girl from Ginny's dreams was the same one the trio was trying to help now? Ginny was tempted to sit up and say something, to verify whether the girl from her dreams could be the same one that Voldemort was after, but she stilled as she heard Ron speak.  
  
"Are you sure about this Harry? I mean," he went on, sounding a bit flustered, and probably suffering the heavy glare of the Boy Who Lived, "what if it's only another trap?" Things were very quiet for a few moments, before Harry spoke again, his voice thick with barely-controlled rage.  
  
"The flashes of thought and feeling were so quick and fleeting," he began, "and I'm certain that Voldemort did not mean to reveal them to me. I only seemed to see a bit of his mind when he was extremely angry or agitated, which he has been increasingly." He paused for a moment, and Ginny assumed that he was gathering his tenuous control. "I know what I saw, even if it was in my dreams," he continued quietly, much more calmly. "He _is _looking for a girl – I don't know why, and I have no idea where she could be –"  
  
"Wait!" came Hermione's excited voice. "Let me see that letter once more," she commanded, and Ginny was certain that the boys would comply, as it sounded like Hermione had come to another one of her brilliant conclusions. "Yes... hmm... yes, yes!" Ginny decided it was safe to bet that Hermione had definitely made a discovery. "Here it is!" Ginny could hear the rustling of parchment, and realized she would now be privy to Dumbledore's own words. "_'I advise you not to concern yourself in this matter. While appreciative of your assistance, I assure you, that I have a few other sources keeping me updated on Voldemort's activities. I know what it is he searches for, and I assure you, it is as well-protected as possible.'_" There were a few moments of silence, while the boys were silent, and Ginny thought fervently. _If what Voldemort is searching for – more specifically, the girl – is 'as well-protected as possible,' then that must mean that –  
_  
"She's at Hogwarts!" came Ron's triumphant cry.  
  
"You're right, she must be." Harry sounded quite awed.  
  
"Right, so all we have to do now is figure out which girl he is after," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "We can't even be certain that she is a student her. For all we know, she could be a professor, or Dumbledore could have simply hidden her somewhere in this large castle – he does know this place better than anyone."  
  
Ginny heard Harry sigh, sounding defeated.  
  
"Cheer up, mate," Ron said consolingly, and Ginny bit back a smile at his can-do front, "at least we have the location narrowed down."  
  
"And you'll really have to keep up with the Occlumency lessons," Hermione cut in seriously. "We don't want Voldemort learning what we know, now do we?"  
  
"Alright," Ginny listened as Harry conceded. If she had looked over to the trio then, she would have seen the grimace on the boy's face. "If it will help protect this girl from Voldemort, I guess I could put up with Snape for a bit longer."  
  
The trio stayed seated, discussing possible courses of action for finding the girl for a few more minutes, before moving on to more inconsequential matters. Once she was certain that she had gleaned all of the relevant information, Ginny whispered _Finite Incantantum_, and used the time in which she had to continue to remain hidden to think over all that she had just overheard.  
  
So Voldemort was looking for a girl... Her dreams had been too frequent, too persistent, and too disturbing for Ginny to pass the connection off as mere coincidence.  
  
It had to be the same girl...  
  
She tried to recall as much of her dreams as could be revealed to her conscious mind. The girl had long, dark hair, but her facial features never materialized in an identifiable way. Still, Ginny was certain that the girl was quite young – around her own age, if not a few years older. Ginny concentrated on the image in her mind, but the more she focused, the foggier the figure became.  
  
Growing frustrated, she turned her attention to considering the situation a bit abstractly. While she was grateful that she now finally had a way to help fight against the Dark Lord, she was perplexed by her reception of the images. There had to be a reason that the dreams – no, _visions_ – were coming to _her_. It could have been due to her experience in first year... But then why had the dreams not started until her sixteenth birthday?  
  
"Ginny." Ginny started abruptly at hearing her name and quickly looked up to find Colin looking down on her, with a deviously pleased grin on his face. She quickly scanned the corner of the common room where the trio had been seated, only to discover that they must have left sometime while she had been lost in thought. She looked back to Colin then, and glared slightly at his obvious amusement.  
  
"Colin, did you have to sneak up on me?" she chastised. He chuckled then, and Ginny's glare only strengthened.  
  
"Oh, believe me, Gin," he said after calming a few moments later, "I did no 'sneaking.'" He made little quotation marks with his fingers at the last word. "Wild hippogriffs could have flown through here, but you still wouldn't have noticed, judging by how absorbed you seemed by that wall," he laughed a bit more as he gestured to the location her eyes had rested while she had been considering the ramifications of what Harry, Ron, and Hermione had unwittingly revealed to her.  
  
"I was _thinking_!" She pointed out, huffing and pouting like a petulant child.  
  
"Alright, alright," Colin decided to let the matter rest, lest he be forced to argue about it with the belligerent red head for another hour or so. "Just so you know, you only responded the fifth time I called your name." Ginny simply shrugged, realizing that she was defeated. She sat up from her hidden position, and moved over a bit, signaling for Colin to join her on the sofa. He accepted the invitation, and once he was settled, asked – quite tentatively – "So, learn anything interesting?"  
  
Ginny simply raised a single eyebrow, and let her lips form a small, but satisfied, smirk.

.

.  
  
Draco lay awake that night, dread regarding the coming summer weighing on his senses, and keeping sleep at bay. Lucius would be awaiting his arrival eagerly, he knew. Draco tried not to let his thoughts linger on what lay ahead of him, but try as he might, there was very little that could distract him from his impending doom. Perhaps 'doom' was bit of an exaggeration, but for a boy who no longer had a desire to bow to a half- human self-proclaimed Dark Lord, the idea of being shaped into a loyal Death Eater by his father was not at all appealing.  
  
Only one thing – or, _person_, really – could successfully wipe thoughts of Lucius and Voldemort out of his mind: Ginny Weasley.  
  
His mind turned over the encounter out on the grounds, earlier in the day. She really had looked so alluring, sprawled leisurely on the grass, lazily taking in her surroundings. He had almost called out her name, before catching his blunder before it could form, and quickly covering with his patented smirk and a ready insult. Not that his presence seemed to affect her in any way – it seemed she could loathe him at a distance just as well as she could loathe him when he stood before her. He preferred to avoid acknowledging her apparently negative feelings towards him, even if it meant ignoring her presence – well, as much of her as he was capable of ignoring, at such close range...  
  
He had noted, against his will, that when she stood, the sun had danced across the different shades of red in her hair, highlighting copper, auburn, and fire-red strands. Her eyes had shone brightly, while she confronted her brother, the gold flecks growing prominent. And her lips... oh, the way she bit her bottom lip to keep from speaking when she was beyond irritated! He could still remember the taste of that delectable flesh...  
  
Draco abruptly stopped that train of thought – it could lead to no good. That kind of thinking had been exactly what had driven him to charge back to the castle immediately after the exchange! This infatuation of his was becoming absurd.  
  
He had decided that they could not be together. It had been the best course of action, really. And she was a _Weasley_...  
  
Draco sighed. The sneering reminder of her surname did little to abate his desire for the small girl any longer. He was painfully aware of the fact that he did not care to define her by such labels – she was only Ginny to him.  
  
_Gods_, this had to stop!  
  
Perhaps some good would come from this summer, after all – he certainly wouldn't have to see that flaming red hair or those gorgeous cocoa eyes during the holidays. Hopefully, he would be able to fully eradicate his system of any soft feelings towards the girl. Yes, that should work...  
  
Yeah.  
  
_Right_.  
  
Draco shifted onto his side, hoping that this new position would be more conducive to sleeping – an escape from the torturous thoughts of the forbidden Gryffindor. Morpheus, however, did not arrive for another two hours, and when he did, he only brought more dreams of a young red head, who seemed to linger just out of Draco's reach.

.

.  
  
The morning of the scheduled journey of the Hogwart's Express back to King's Cross Station found Draco and Blaise quietly walking the grounds of the great school, both lost in thought. It was early yet, and sleep had deserted both boys, as they were each plagued by the expectations of the coming summer. As they reached the shore of the lake, Blaise stopped. Draco paused as well, turning to his old friend and raising a questioning brow.  
  
"He has decided to join them." That was all that he said, before looking away from the blond boy, out onto the rippling surface of the water. He did not have to say anything more – Draco understood exactly what he meant: Blaise's father would be joining the ranks of the Dark Lord.  
  
This information did not surprise Draco too much. Voldemort's forces had been extremely active since the massacre of the New Year. Reports of muggle and wizard killings alike were constantly in the _Daily Prophet_. Mr. Zabini's choices were limited, as Draco knew how dedicated the man was to his family, to his father – the current Lord of the House of Zabini – and to his nephew – the heir to the title. If Damien Zabini were to join the Death Eaters, the House of Zabini would once more benefit from the protection it enjoyed in the First War, when Agostino Zabini had taken the mark. It was, logically, the most beneficial decision.  
  
Draco could see that it did nothing to alleviate Blaise's distress, however. "At least you are safe from his recruitment now," he pointed out. Blaise simply scoffed, and turned to look at Draco once more, his golden eyes darkened.  
  
"Are you really so certain of that?" he asked, the bitterness evident in his tone. Draco stared unflinchingly into the other boy's eyes.  
  
"No, I suppose I am not," he admitted quietly, so as not to further incite anger from Blaise, whose emotions, Draco knew, were already in turmoil. "But, it would be foolish not to consider all of the possible repercussions of this decision. It is quite possible that the Dark Lord will be satisfied with the participation of your father alone. It is also possible, once your father has pledged his allegiance, that He Who Must Not Be Named _will_ expect the same from you, even more so than previously," Draco explained. "I can't be certain, but until we know for certain, I advise you not to brood on it." Blaise simply shook his head, and turned to head back to the castle. He stilled when Draco laid a supportive hand on his arm. "Rest assured, Blaise, no matter what lies ahead, you are not alone."  
  
Blaise tilted his head slightly, and met Draco's mercury gaze. "And will you remember the same?" he questioned, his voice plainly curious – not bitter or angry. Draco moved his hand back, and nodded curtly.  
  
"I will," he made the solemn promise.  
  
Silence reigned yet again during their stroll back to the castle. Once inside, the two Slytherins went straight to the Great Hall for breakfast. The large room was only semi-filled when they arrived at their places at the Slytherin table. Pansy had already begun her meal, occasionally chatting with Millicent Bulstrode. Draco took his seat beside Pansy, while Blaise took up the position on the other side of him, as per usual.  
  
"Good morning, boys," she greeted, though it was clear in her tone that she was curious as to where they had gone off to earlier that morning.  
  
"Pansy," was Blaise's only response, before biting into his toast, while Draco simply nodded to the girl. He bit back a smirk when he saw her pout slightly, realizing that she would not receive an answer to her query now. Draco busied himself with filling his plate with eggs, toast, and bacon, and then proceeded to eat only a small bit of the pile in front of him, as he was not hungry at all.  
  
Growing bored with his meal quickly, Draco decided to head back to his dormitory, to check once more that he had packed all of his things in his trunk. He absolutely hated that the house elves here would not do it for him, like back at the Manor... Before he could stand to leave, however, Veronica Dolohov appeared before him, and seated herself across from him.  
  
"Hello, Draco." She was using that inviting tone again. Draco sighed inwardly, and gave the persistent girl a small smirk. He was sure that she said something more, but, at that moment, he was distracted by a sight at the Gryffindor table, where Seamus Finnigan was sitting _much_ too close to Ginny Weasley, for Draco's liking.  
  
_What the hell does that git think he's doing?_ Draco fumed. And where in Hades was that over-protective oaf Ron Weasley? His sister was being practically mauled by a hormonal teenage boy for gods' sakes!  
  
"Draco?" he shifted as Veronica Dolohov moved into his line of sight, intent on keeping his eyes trained on what he considered as debauchery at the Gryffindor table. Unfortunately, Dolohov only altered her position to compensate for his adjustment, and placed herself directly in the forefront of his vision once more.  
  
"What is it?" he bit out testily. He was certain that Blaise and Pansy found his lack of control over his emotions quite amusing – he did not have to turn his head to see their smirks. Dolohov looked a bit taken aback, but she recovered quickly in the face of his aggravation. Impressive, Draco thought. "I was just saying how awful it would be, not seeing you all summer," she pouted a bit, and laid a hand on his arm, as it rested slightly on the table in an appalling display of bad manners. The Weasley girl had him so turned around that he was forgetting proper etiquette now!  
  
Draco stiffened at the younger girl's touch, and quickly considered his options. Coming to a decision – which had been influenced greatly by Draco's subtle glance over to the Gryffindor table, which had revealed Ginny laughing at something the idiot beside her had said – he placed his own hand above Dolohov's and focused his attention on the girl before him. "Well, then, perhaps we should make up for it all that time apart, before we leave." The implications of his offer were clear, and Dolohov smiled in satisfaction as she stood. Draco followed her example, ignoring Pansy's questioning look, and Blaise's curious, yet slightly angry, gaze. Draco never had bothered to explain what had happened with Ginny Weasley to his best mate, and Blaise had never asked. Though the latter had had a lot to deal with that had distracted him...  
  
As Draco strode confidently out of the hall, determined to enjoy his time with the willing Slytherin girl, he did not see the red head at the Gryffindor table watching him. And he certainly missed the obvious hurt in her eyes.

.

.  
  
Ginny looked away from the doors of the Great Hall, where Draco Malfoy had exited only moments before. She knew he had followed that Slytherin girl out, and she had a pretty good idea of what they would be doing in only a few minutes...  
  
"Ginny?" Seamus sat beside her, though Ginny was not quite certain why. He had always been _nice_ to her, of course, but for the past few days, he had made it a point to sit near her in the common room, making small talk and cracking jokes. This morning he had gone as far as to join her for breakfast. He really was a sweet boy, and Ginny was starting to get the impression that he was interested in her, but the feelings were not reciprocated. And he really was sitting much too close for comfort... "Are you alright?" he continued, oblivious to her thoughts.  
  
"Of course, Seamus, I'm fine," she said, keeping her eyes trained on her nearly-full plate. She could feel Blaise's worried eyes on her, but she did not have the strength to hide her pain from him at the moment. Besides, he could probably see through any brave front she put up, anyway.  
  
"Okay," he replied, and returned to his own meal, occasionally pausing to tell her some joke or anecdote. This went on for about fifteen minutes, with Ginny barely listening, and simply nodding at what she assumed to be the appropriate junctions, before Ron arrived.  
  
"Finnigan," Ron said warningly, and Ginny was actually a bit grateful for her big brother's overbearing presence. Seamus gulped loudly at the unhappy expression on Ron's red face, and quickly moved away. When Ron's glare had yet to abate, Seamus quickly mumbled excuses of having to finish packing, and hastily departed from the Great Hall.  
  
Once Seamus had left, Ron threw himself down across from Ginny, and proceeded to fill his plate with food. This was nothing new to Ginny – Ron had always been a bottomless pit when meal-time came around. No, it was the fact that he simply stared at his plate, once it had been filled, that worried her.  
  
"Is everything alright, Ron?" she asked tentatively, as they had not really had a civil conversation in months – not since he had written home about her friendship with Blaise. His choice of seating puzzled her slightly – after all of the arguments they had shared, interspersed with bouts of a lack in communication – but his melancholy disposition indicated to Ginny that something was wrong. And, regardless of previous altercations, Ron was her family, and she _did_ love him.  
  
"Fine," he replied, not looking up at her. Ginny grew more concerned – this was not like Ron at all. And where were Harry and Hermione? His reaction when she voiced her mental query slightly alarmed Ginny. Ron stiffened abruptly at the mention of his two best friends, and then forced a casual shrug. "Don't know."  
  
"Okay," Ginny drawled out slowly, growing irritated with this game already. "Then I guess I'll see you later," she said, making to stand. She was stopped from moving, however, by his voice.  
  
"They're together," he said. When Ginny only looked at him, quite simply baffled, he continued. "Harry and Hermione are dating," he explained. "I only found out this morning, when I walked in on..." he left the rest hanging, but Ginny did not need any more information. Her sorrow for Ron's predicament was real – she knew how much he liked Hermione. And she had thought, for a time, that Hermione felt the same way for her brother. Apparently, Ginny had been mistaken.  
  
Harry.  
  
And Hermione.  
  
_Together?  
_  
Ginny swallowed roughly, and let the ache wash over her. In a small part of her, deep within, her crush for Harry had lingered, despite her efforts to abolish the feelings completely. And Hermione – she had _known_ how Ginny had felt, and how difficult it had been for her to try to move on...  
  
Ginny was only grateful that any distress caused by this revelation paled in comparison to what she had felt when Draco had left the Hall with that girl. _Is it a good thing?_ she questioned herself bitterly._ Is it better to have intense romantic feelings for Draco Malfoy, than it is to feel them for Harry Potter?_ In the end, it really did not matter, she decided – they would both only hurt her.

* * *

Author's Note 1:

PLEASE DON'T FLAME!! I PROMISE that this fic _will _end with Draco and Ginny together. My readers should understand that I will likely never write an ending any other way, as it would hurt me too much to keep these characters apart, especially after spending so much time developing them. BUT, I also firmly believe that there can be no DG story without some angst. So be ready for it... But never fear! There will be more DG action in later chapters! Also, please remember that Ginny is a smart young woman, who – though she has been hurt many times – will not let some boy back into her heart if she deems his behavior unacceptable, after hearing all of the facts; she respects herself, and not even DRACO will be unconditionally forgiven.  
  
Author's Note 2:

I AM NOT a H/Hr fan! I AM a R/Hr fan! Umm... Just thought I'd let you know...  
  
Author's Note 3:

I know that I said that the contents of the letter Draco had received from his mother in Chapter 1 would be in this Chapter. I apologize for the miscalculation on my part – I had to end up chopping my original outline for Chapter 6 into two halves, as there was just so much going on in the story. I have already written the letter, and I have started working on Chapter 7 already, so please continue to be patient – the next chapter should be out in about a week...  
  
Author's Note 4:

Thanks to all those who reviewed! Your comments inspire me to continue writing, and even help me improve the story! And for those who wished me luck with my laptop-hunt, I am happy to inform you that my new baby arrived a few days ago – and I LOVE IT!

Ess Lou: Thanks so much for reviewing! I apologize for being unable to thank you when I posted Chapter 5, but I did not receive your review until after I had updated the story. Anyway, I am so glad that you are enjoying the story, and find the characters believable with respect to canon (which is something I have attempted to do, and sometimes worry that I have failed…) Thanks for your very sweet compliments, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Obviously Oblivious: Thank you for the very sweet review. I hope this chapter was worth the wait… :)

Eve Granger: Yup, they both definitely wanted it… and still do, though circumstances are keeping them apart… for now. I'm glad you enjoyed Chapter 5, and I hope Chapter 6 did not disappoint. Thanks for the review!

Amanda Mancini: Thank you so much for the utterly complimentary review! It is so nice to hear that people are enjoying my story – it makes the hours of writing even more worthwhile, to know that people appreciate it! I hope that you enjoyed Chapter 6!

SarkLover: Speechless? Really? Aw, you're just too sweet! Thanks for reviewing, and I hope Chapter 6 was to your liking.

CoolCasperz: Thanks for the review – glad to hear that you like the story. In response to your question, no I have not read Anne Rice's Blackwood Farms… Why? Is it good? Maybe I will check it out…

Stella di Speranza: (aka LiTtLe-bLaCk-sTaR right?) Thanks so much for your numerous reviews! They all just brought a big smile to my face! I am so happy to hear that you are enjoying the story. And Blaise is great, isn't he – makes me wish I had one of him… Please let me know what you think of Chapter 6 – I know it was a bit depressing, but I promise that it will get better (sooner or later, at least). Also, thanks for the very sweet review of "The Reason!" And I'm under your faves lists? Aw, you are so great! Thanks!

xmag: Well, where to begin… I'm glad that you approve of my decision to change Ginny's name from Virginia to Ginevra – I was a bit worried about the reception of the change (if only I had known back then that Pansy Parkinson was a brunette, I wouldn't have to go back again to fix the earlier chapters – if you watch PoA, she is the one fussing over Draco's "injured" arm… I watched the movie at midnight last night!). Anyway, I like the name Magali; maybe it just sounds beautiful and exotic to my American ears, but I think it is lovely… Anyway, in regards to your questions regarding the story, I can only say the following: the girl is important, and how she is connected to different characters is one of the mysteries of this story; as for the celebration of Ginny's birthday, that whole thing about it being "really important" was just Luna being… well, Luna – the only celebration was the trip to the Three Broomsticks in Chapter 2. So, thanks for reviewing, and please let me know what you thought of Chapter 6.

Regs: So glad to hear that you enjoyed Chapter 5! Yes, Ginny does seem to change depending on who is around her – she tends to only really let her guard down with Blaise and Colin, and with Luna, to a lesser extent. She does seem a bit hormonal, doesn't she? Oh, well, it's who she is… or, who I made her… :); Anyway, thanks for the review, and I hope Chapter 6 lived up to your expectations.

karen1: Dreamy sigh, huh? Happy to hear that your enjoying the story! Thanks for the review, and I hope you liked Chapter 6.

ocean eyes: Wow… I mean, that has to be one of the most complimentary reviews I have ever received. Thank you so much for your insightful comments, and the affirmation that I am not totally wasting my time – as well as the readers' – by posting this little fic. I can only hope that Chapter 6 was not a disappointment… Please let me know what you thought of it. And I hope your laptop is doing better now… :)

yingxiangie: Thanks so much for your review – I'm glad to hear that you are enjoying the story. As for your comment about Ron's character, you are absolutely right – he was not three-dimensional. But, that had been planned, as the story is told from Ginny and Draco's perspectives – neither who have the best opinion of the boy at this point in the story. Ginny's hurt due to Ron's slight of her and Draco's blind loathing of the boy have kept Ron's character from being really developed thus far. This chapter, however, marked the change of his status from "belligerent, over-bearing brother" to "possible friend and close family member" for Ginny, though Draco is the one who has really noted the shift thus far, not Ginny. Anyway, I hope Chapter 6 was to your liking…

emvee: Thanks for the very sweet review! I know exactly what you mean about the long chapters – I write them that way cuz that is how I like to read them as well. I hope that you enjoyed Chapter 6!

nebber: Glad to hear that you are still enjoying the story, and look to my response to emvee for my take on long chapters… Anyway, as for Ginny not seeming really angst-ridden in JKR's books, you are probably right, but you have to keep in mind that those are all from Harry's perspective, and he really can be quite dense. Let's not forget, this is the same boy that _forgot_ that Ginny had been possessed by Voldemort; I also can't forget a line from the second book, near the end, after the scene in the Chamber, where it is noted – from Harry's POV – that Ginny Weasley was 'perfectly happy again.' I just don't buy it, especially after the exchange in the fifth book, where she coolly says "Lucky you," in response to Harry's admission to having forgotten what she had gone through in her first year. But, then again, that was just my interpretation of her character, and I must admit that I may have been influenced by the numerous DG fanfics I have read. As for Draco, I am happy to hear that you seem to like him; and Blaise – well, I have said it before, but I really had not realized how prevalent the Blaise/Colin pairing had become in DG fanfics until well after it had been outlined into my story. I have adored the pairing since reading Davesmom's "The Weasel and Kneazle" (great fic – I totally recommend reading it), and that is really the only reason it showed up in this fic… Blaise with a Hufflepuff, eh? Interesting… :) Thanks for the review, and I hope you enjoyed Chapter 6!

ugahill: Thank you so much for the encouraging review! I'm glad to hear that you like Blaise, and the interaction between Draco & Blaise and Blaise & Ginny. Ginny is a little spitfire, isn't she? That is how I picture her, after having read the fifth book… Anyway, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 6!

Luv2Fool: Thanks so much for the complimentary review! I hope this chapter was posted quickly enough… :)

Anonymous: Hmm… I'm sure you know who you are… Anyway, thanks so much for that very sweet review! Terms such as "sheer brilliance" always give my ego a bit of boost. :) I hope you enjoyed Chapter 6!

BubblyFizz03: Four reviews! You have a special place in my heart for all of your sweet words… Seriously, when I checked my email, I thought there had been a mistake, cuz there were so many new review alerts in my inbox, but it had been days since I had posted the latest chapter… But then I read each of your reviews, and I just could not stop grinning like an idiot!!! :) Anyway, you have my heartfelt thanks for sharing what you thought of each chapter with me. As for some points you made in your reviews: 1. You are right, Neville and Luna really aren't as well-developed as the other characters; you should be seeing a lot more of Luna in the next chapter, but I'm not sure where Neville will come in (I'll have to work on that); 2. As far as not being a big fan of slash, don't worry about it – Colin and Blaise's relationship really will not be focused on (there just isn't room for it); 3. You cried? Oh my gosh, that has to be one of the greatest compliments to my writing that I have received! 4. It is wonderful to hear that you are riding the emotional roller coaster along with the characters – isn't that what a great story is supposed to do? (I know that that's what JKR's books do for me); 5. So you are fairly new to the world of DG fanfiction? Check out my Fave Authors and Stories – there is some really great stuff posted on FF.Net that you should give a try… You're an H/G fan, eh? Yeah, I used to be totally obsessed with the idea of Harry and Ginny together. But then I read "The More is My Unrest" (can't remember the author) on SugarQuill, and when I realized that all I could think while reading it was "Why doesn't Ginny just forget about that jerk (Harry) and see the guy who is checking her out (Malfoy)?" I realized that maybe I wasn't the die-hard HG fan I had thought myself to be. Alas, I stumbled onto the Magical Theory website, and from there, it was only DG for me. Anyway, good luck with writing your story! And I hope that you enjoyed Chapter 6!

coffeeaddict14: It is so wonderful to hear that you are enjoying the story, and that you like the character interactions and relationships! Thanks so much for reviewing, and I hope you enjoyed Chapter 6!

Athena Linborn: Thanks for the encouraging review! I'm so glad to hear that you enjoyed the chapter, as well as my portrayals of the Gryffindor trio. Let me know what you thought of Chapter 6!

Sunday-Morning: Thank you for the very sweet review! Yeah, Draco not being a bastard would just be plain weird, but his "nice bastard" moments are so fun to write! I'm glad that you are enjoying the story so far, and that you like the Colin/Blaise pairing… I hope Chapter 6 did not disappoint!

maz: Ah, short and sweet… never underestimate to power of only a few words – Thanks so much for such a complimentary review! Hope that you enjoyed Chapter 6!

Kobe Grace: "…profound and poignant?" Thank you so much for that compliment! It really is nice to hear that the work I put into each chapter is appreciated. I can only hope that Chapter 6 lived up to expectations. :)

Gialia Spiritdancer: I'm so glad to hear that you are enjoying the story! I have tried to include a lot of detail and explanation in my story, because I want any differences from canon to be plausible… You don't like my Ginny? You know, I never really noticed her to be "dark," but that does not mean it's not true – this is just how she has been pictured in my head for a while now, so it seems almost normal to me. But your comment definitely had me evaluating the way I have constructed her, but I realized that I seem to like her angst-ridden (as long as there is a happy ending…). Also, I suppose this fic is for an older crowd, though I don't think there will be anything in it to warrant an R rating. Actually, I rather thought this was tame, compared to much of what I have read in my time as a DG fan, but let me know if you think that the content reaches beyond the rating, so I can fix that. Anyway, as to the questions regarding the plot of the story, this is all I can say: 1. The necklace is important, and it will come up again! (You are one of only two people who made a note of it in a review, so good eye there!) 2. The contents of the letter will be revealed at the end of Chapter 7. 3. Hmm… as for the rest, you'll just have to wait and see. :) As for writing professionally (such a great compliment, by the way)… Did you ever have to write one of those "When I grow up…" essays in grade school? Well, I did, and I always said that I was going to be an author… that lasted until about eighth grade, when a discussion with my parents narrowed my realistic future choices down to medicine, engineering, business, or law – I chose law (I will be starting my first year in the fall), and my ideas of writing were forgotten. Until, that is, I became well and truly obsessed with Draco and Ginny HP fanfiction, grew depressed that I seemed to have read everything out there, and an idea sparked in my head. And thus began my venture into writing fanfiction (I started only less that two months ago). We'll see where I go from here, but it is nice to know that you have such confidence in my abilities. Thank you so much! And I hope you enjoyed Chapter 6!

Carmen: Aw, thanks so much for that very sweet review! I hope Chapter 6 did not disappoint… :)

VAB: Thanks for all of your encouragement and support! Hope that you liked Chapter 6!

NOTE: Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know what you think. 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Title:** Veritas Amo

**Author:** Rosa di Corte

**Category:** Romance/Mystery

**Pairing:** Draco/Ginny, Ginny/Draco

**Summary:** Amidst the Second War, in a changing world, two people – Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy – find themselves; and each other… D/G; AU after Book 5

**Spoilers:** Books 1-5; Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them; Quidditch Through the Ages

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, and Warner Bros., among others. Only the plot and any unfamiliar characters are mine.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know this update is about a year and a half late, and for that I apologize. I have not abandoned this story, and I fully intend to finish it, hopefully in the next few months. This effort would be made monumentally easier if I had a beta. If there is anyone interested in the position, please email me. Thanks for your patience and loyalty, and enjoy Chapter 7.

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**CHAPTER 7**

"Ginny," came an unwelcome voice, coupled with an insistent rap on the closed door, intruding upon the silence in which the small red head had cacooned herself. Ginny shifted slightly on her bed in the Burrow, burying the note she had been writing to Blaise under her pillow, and steeled herself to face the person behind the door.

"Come in," she called out, quite certain that even if she had decided to ignore the knock at the door and had refused to grant access, her private domain would still be invaded.

"Ginny, dear," Molly Weasley began even before she had fully stepped into the younger girl's room, "I'm heading out now to run a few errands, and I need you to keep an eye on little Sabine for me." Once fully through the threshold, the Weasley matriarch looked critically around the bedroom. Ginny's privacy was precious to her, and Molly Weasley had been permitted inside this room only a handful of times since the beginning of the summer holidays, much to her – loudly vocalized – displeasure. Without waiting for Ginny's – assumedly affirmative – response, she continued on. "What is it that you do, shut up in this room all day, anyway? You should get out more, dear… and the garden needs a good degnoming, anyway."

Ginny simply pursed her lips and nodded slightly, quite tired of arguing with the woman in front of her. The weeks since she had returned home from her fifth year at Hogwarts had been filled with loud arguments, disappointed faces, and angry glares. Her family, it turned out, had not decided to graciously accept her relationship with a certain dark-haired Slytherin, and for the past few weeks had been certain to make their objections known. Molly absolutely loathed the idea that Ginny was friends – _friends!_ – with the older boy, and Arthur seemed to mostly agree with his wife. Bill was away on a mission for the Order, so she had not seen him since her return to gage his possible reactions. Charlie had actually tried to be understanding, though not wholly supportive: while he did not condemn her choice in friends, neither did he defend her against the attacks the other members of their family threw her way. Percy – ever the Ministry lackey – was fully against her association with 'that Zabini boy;' Ginny simply ignored the newly-returned prodigal son. Fred and George's reactions were much like Ron's had been months ago, except for the fact that undoubtedly more plots for intervention were being hatched by the dynamic – or as Ginny liked to think of them, demented – duo. Ron's anger actually seemed to have mellowed a bit: Like Charlie, Ron neither attacked nor defended her friendship with Blaise. Ginny considered this a blessing, as she had enough people voicing their displeasure with the situation. And though they had their differences, she never really did like fighting with her closest brother.

The constant tension in the Burrow, in conjunction with the fact that every person in the house – with the exception of Ginny and Bill's six-month-old daughter, Sabine – had their own tasks, their own purpose to fulfill for the Order, had left the sixteen-year-old constantly seeking solace in the isolation of her room. She had hoped that once she returned this summer, she would have been asked to help aid the fight against Voldemort; after all, she was the same age as the Golden Trio had been last year – when they had been inducted into the Order – and Ginny knew that the days were growing darker, and the Light side would need all of the help it could be offered. Her help, however, was apparently not wanted; though she would bet it was needed.

"Well, then," Molly continued, "I'll be back in a few hours." The plump woman bustled quickly back out the door, and Ginny stood to follow her, as was expected. "I've put Sabine down for her nap already, but she'll most likely be up in an hour or so," she continued, as Ginny followed her down through the hallway and down the stairs. "She'll be a bit fussy when she wakes, and you may just have to rock her for awhile –"

"Mum," Ginny cut in, holding in the visible signs of her irritation, "I've taken care of her before, I know what to do."

"Oh, of course, dear," Molly said a bit absently, and Ginny knew her mind had already wandered off to whatever errands she would be running – undoubtedly for the Order – that afternoon. "Well," she continued, shaking her head a bit to clear it, and focusing on the smaller girl, "I'll most likely be back before Arthur and the boys return, so don't worry about dinner. I'll make it when I come back." Ginny only nodded, more than a little certain that even if she had attempted to make dinner, it most likely would not have been edible. So why try? "Be careful, dear," Molly called out, before throwing some floo powder into the flames in the fireplace and calling out, "Diagon Alley." Ginny had not bothered to hide the rolling of her eyes at her mother's request for her safety.

_Like anything could happen to me here at the Burrow, anyway, with all of the extra wards_, Ginny thought cynically. _I couldn't be any safer if I were locked in a vault in Gringotts, which I may as well be for all the good I'm doing here!_

After the massacre last December, a whole new set of wards had been placed around the Burrow. Number 12 Grimmauld Place had become a hive of activity, and Dumbledore foresaw that it would likely be detrimental to have the Weasleys living there full time again in the summer. Therefore, the great Headmaster of Hogwarts had put up the new protection wards himself, going as far as to make the lopsided home unplottable.

Ginny sighed and shook away her irritated thoughts – dwelling on the circumstances didn't change anything. She had had enough. She was suffocating under all of the negative emotions her forced exclusion had wrought. Well, in truth, the exclusion only compounded on the pain she felt in her heart whenever she thought of Draco. She had given up trying to think of him as Malfoy again, but – whatever label used – she tried to avoid thinking of him altogether. Shoulders squared, Ginny headed back upstairs to her bedroom. Sabine would likely be up in less than the hour Molly Weasley predicted, as the baby never could stay asleep very long for her naps. Molly would not know this as well as Ginny, however, as it was Ginny who was trapped in the Burrow most often with the responsibility of caring for the child. Everyone else was quite busy aiding the war effort.

'Everyone' did not include Fleur Delacour Weasley, however. No one was quite sure where the part-veela had run off. It seemed that the responsibilities of wife and mother were not something the young woman was quite ready for – especially while her husband was away on work for the Order for months on end. When Bill had left on his mission for Dumbledore, Fleur had come to stay with the Weasley family at the Burrow. This had been at Bill's insistence, as he wanted his wife and daughter safe, and thought the wards on the Burrow would offer better protection than those at the Delacour estate.

Ginny had spent her first weeks back from Hogwarts helping Fleur with Sabine. The red head had discovered early on that focusing on the baby helped keep her mind away from less appealing subjects – such as blonde ferrets – so she threw herself into caring for her niece. And really, when those little cerulean eyes turned on her, how could she possibly hold onto any depressing thoughts?

Apparently, Sabine did not have the same uplifting affect on her own mother.

Fleur had always been a bit self-centered, in Ginny's opinion. One of Ginny's earliest memories of the girl was during her third year, when the beautiful blonde had laughed at Ron's invitation to the Yule Ball. Ginny understood that Ron was not one of the most hansome or suave boys around, but Fleur's reaction had been unnecessarily cruel. Of course, she was much nicer after Harry had saved her sister Gabrielle from the lake. The years since the Tri-Wizard Tournament had not seemed to mature the girl much. Ginny was old enough to realize that Fleur and Bill's relationship would only have lasted until the passion fizzled – it was all physical attraction for them. And that was precisely what landed them in the situation resulting in their marriage.

When Ginny had first arrived back form her fifth year at Hogwarts, Fleur had seemed grateful for her help with Sabine. However, within the first week, Fleur had begun handing more and more of the care-taking responsibilities over to Ginny – or Molly when she was home – while the young mother herself would escape the confines of the Burrow. It was from one such excursion that Fleur never returned. The Weasleys would have been concerned of foul play had the blond had not taken a good portion of her wardrobe and all of her jewelry with her. There had been no note; no explanations or farewells for her husband and child. Molly Weasley had been quick to take charge, as always, and decided the Burrow would be Sabine's home until Bill was ready to care for her. Still, Ginny's heart had gone out to the abandoned child, and she increased her efforts in looking after the young innocent.

In an effort to make the Burrow more of a home for Sabine, Ginny had even braved the ghoul in the attic to retrieve some old baby things. She had spent hours digging through the various trunks scattered around the top level of the Burrow: She had sifted through old family photographs – pictures of Weasley birthdays and Christmases; of Aunt Clara and Uncle Stefan on her father's side; of cousin Jareth who lived in Wales; of Bill and cousin Andy, who had died before Ginny was born. She had carefully foraged through trunks of cutesy knick-knacks, and a plethora of useless muggle contraptions. She had dug through piles of out-dated adult clothing and truly hideous draperies. Finally, somewhere in the middle of the large collection, Ginny had found the baby clothes, blankets, and toys she had originally come up to the attic for. Needless to say, when she had returned downstairs, covered in the dust that had once coated the trunks, she had headed straight for a nice, long shower.

Now, once more ensconced in her bedroom, Ginny finished the short – and admittedly boring – message to her Slytherin friend, and found Pigwidgeon to deliver it to Zabini Manor. A scant forty minutes later, her prediction regarding Sabine's sleeping habits proved true, and Ginny went to comfort the crying baby, in the makeshift nursery that had once been Bill's room. Once Sabine lay cradled in her arms, Ginny went to the kitchen to retrieve a prepared bottle for the baby. Returning to the nursery with a feeding Sabine, Ginny relaxed her body in the rocking chair next to the crib, and decided to enjoy the rare peaceful moment. For, surely, such tranquil quiet would not exist in the Burrow once Molly, Arthur, and the boys returned for dinner.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was certain this was the worst summer of his life. 

Although he had returned to the manor knowing that things would not be as they had been the summer before, when Lucius had been in Azkaban, the gloom surrounding his childhood home seemed to be even darker than he could previously recall. Narcissa Malfoy once more filled the role of distant matriarch, though Draco was certain at times he caught glimpses of the woman he had come to know the summer before. And Lucius Malfoy… well, his time in Azkaban had certainly not made him more genial.

Draco's summer days had been filled with lessons with his tutors, whose presence at least drove Lucius into hiding in the East Wing most mornings after breakfast. He was not saved from the preachings of his father the rest of the day, however, and Draco longed for the days when Lucius had been too busy with work, and scheming to bring back the Dark Lord, to pay too much attention to his son. Oh, Lucius still schemed, but now on plans to aid Voldemort in destroying the Light side. And, much to Draco's displeasure, many of these new schemes all called for the involvement of the young Malfoy heir. Draco had felt twinges of hope when, twice, aurors had come to search the manor for the Malfoy Lord. But Lucius was well hidden by the magic of Malfoy Manor, and the empty-handed aurors had left behind a disappointed Draco each time.

The small respite Draco had found during the warm days had been his visits with Blaise and Pansy. The three friends could not meet often, but under the pretense of discussing the success of the Dark Lord with the two dark-haired Slytherins, Draco had managed to escape his father a handful of times. Even these meetings, however, were not the more carefree gatherings of their youth. As children, Draco, Blaise, and Pansy had spent much time together. They had been an oddity among the children of Slytherins, as their loyalty to each other had been apparent early on. In the innocence that came with youth, they had even formed a pact – using the thorns of roses found in the gardens of Malfoy Manor to shed and mingle their blood – to always be there for each other. Oh, the sentiment may now be more likely to come from a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff, but at the age of eight, the three soon-to-be Slytherins had seen the value of their bonds with each other. And though, as many children, they had thought themselves invincible, even they could acknowledge they were stronger united, rather than divided.

These days, meeting with Blaise and Pansy always brought a bitter undercurrent for Draco. The obvious reasons for this were the implications and complications brought on by the ongoing war: Blaise had been quietly brooding since he had revealed to Draco his father's decision to join the Death Eaters. Damien Zabini had not yet taken the mark, but Draco knew it would be only a matter of time before the Dark Lord called for this sacrifice from the man. Pansy was not quite so obvious as Blaise with her reactions to the situation, but Draco could easily discern the despondency hidden in her movements and mannerisms.

The other damper on such gatherings for Draco was that, in his mind, Blaise was now associated with Ginny Weasley. Bad enough the red headed nymph would not leave his dreams. Blaise's presence seemed to thrust thoughts of the small girl from deep within the back of Draco's mind, where he had resolutely tried to bury her, to the forefront of his thoughts. Even the short snog with Veronica Dolohov before he had taken the Hogwarts Express back home from his sixth year at the school had in no way dulled the churning emotions that Ginny brought about in the blonde. He knew Veronica had expected a shag, but Draco had found it difficult enough to kiss the girl without constant thoughts of Ginny Weasley bombarding him. As it was, he had found the entire experience not wholly unpleasant – he was a seventeen-year-old boy, after all – but kissing Veronica had been nothing like the sheer ecstasy of snogging Ginny.

There were times when Draco had been tempted to pick up a quill and send the Gryffindor girl a note, asking – Malfoys do not _beg_ – for another chance. These 'times' occurred most often after he had woken from another vivid dream starring the young red head. However, once the haze of sleep had fully lifted, Draco would quickly recall exactly why he could not be with the girl. After all, Lucius Malfoy was sleeping in the next wing over.

While, unknown to Draco, the red head that plagued his mind was sitting down to a dinner cooked by Molly Weasley with her family, the blonde Slytherin was given a message by an obviously cowed house-elf that his father wished to speak with him. Voiding the visible traces of emotion from his face, Draco made his way down to Lucius' study, where his father was waiting for him. After Lucius had granted the younger Malfoy entrance at his knock, the Malfoy Lord continued to look over some papers, ignoring his son. Draco understood this snub as a silent message, clarifying exactly who was in charge, should there be any question on the matter.

While waiting for Lucius to end his silent lesson, Draco took in his surroundings. He had not entered his father's study in almost two years. He found, however, that the room had not changed at all during his absence. The large mahogany desk, which Lucius sat behind, was centered at the far wall. To the left of the desk, shelves of books lined the wall; to the right, a nicely-stocked bar was set, should the study's occupant care for a nice brandy or some Ogden's Fire-Whiskey. Draco sorely wished that he could pour himself a glass of the bitter liquid, and would have done so had he not known the importance of being fully in control of his faculties when facing down Lucius Malfoy.

"Draco," Lucius sneered slightly, as the younger man returned his attention to his father, who had apparently set aside the papers he had previously been looking over and leaned back in his chair behind the desk. "How are your lessons with your tutors progressing?"

Though slightly startled, as this was not what the young Slytherin had thought Lucius would want to discuss, Draco quickly recovered and answered carefully. "Quite well, Father. Potions especially has been challenging, but I have found it manageable."

"Then perhaps this year you will actually succeed in surpassing the grades of Potter's mudblood," Lucius returned in a dangerously silky drawl.

Draco hid the cringe that barb produced. "Of course, Father."

Lucius nodded once, before shifting forward in his seat. "Very well. Your school work is not why I summoned you." Draco stilled; he knew what was coming, and this was what he had been dreading. "As you know, the Dark Lord is rising in power. Less than a year from now, upon your graduation from Hogwarts, I expect that you will kneel before our Lord to take the Dark Mark." Draco forcefully withheld the shudder that was creeping down his back, as Lucius continued. "Although you cannot return to Dumbledore's school with the mark, I do not believe that precludes your usefulness to the Dark Lord." Draco held his breath at this pronouncement. "That being so, it is time that you learned the ways of the Death Eaters. Be prepared to accompany me to the gathering tonight." With this order, Lucius returned his attention to the papers he had been perusing before Draco's arrival, effectively dismissing the younger Malfoy.

Though later Draco would never know how he had made the trip from Lucius' study up to his bedroom, he did indeed return to his sanctuary. The hours before Lucius came to retrieve Draco for the Death Eater meeting passed uneventfully, almost surreally. As expected, Draco was prepared – having dressed all in black, with an equally black cloak and hood thrown over the dark ensemble – when Lucius came for him. His father had looked Draco over once, before nodding curtly in approval and grabbing the younger blonde's arm.

Once he had recovered from the effects of side-by-side apparition, Draco tried to discern where he might be. The effort proved fruitless, however, as all the young Malfoy saw were trees surrounding the clearing where his father and other Death Eaters were gathered. Lucius, decked fully in his Death Eater garb as was apparently the norm for these meetings, led his son over to the loose circle that was being formed by the Dark Lord's followers. Draco, for his part, followed obediently and tried not to fidget much with the hood of his cloak, which hid his distinctive hair and much of his face from view.

Draco tried not to shiver in revulsion as he was forced by Lucius to kneel with all of the Death Eaters when the next pop of apparition heralded the arrival of the Dark Lord himself. Draco had never before been in Voldemort's presence, and once he had gazed upon the monster himself, he wished to never be in its presence again. He had heard, of course, that Voldemort had traded in much of his humanity for the power he craved. But the result of such a barter was more gruesome that Draco had imagined. The red eyes, the slits that served as a nose, and the waxy, stretched skin all combined to create an almost-snake-man.

"My followers," came the silky hiss from nearly-non-existent lips. "The day is approaching when those unworthy will taint our world no more!" A cheer of assent by the Death Eaters went up at this declaration. Draco stayed silent. "Our efforts in cleansing our society of mudbloods and blood traitors have been vastly successful, but there is still much more to be done before this civilization is pure once more." Murmurs of agreement rose from the crowd, before silence settled once more among the followers as the Dark Lord continued. "It has come to my attention, however, that some of those deemed unworthy have managed to escape into hiding, no doubt with the aid of that fool Dumbledore. This is unacceptable." Draco felt a dread rise up within him as Voldemort's voice grew even colder. "Failure is not tolerated." And though the words were stated quietly, the degree of malice in the Dark Lord's tone had the same affect as would have resulted had he shouted the mandate.

Draco could sense the fear rising in the Death Eaters surrounding him, including the formidable Lucius Malfoy. He himself was working to keep his panic under tight control. "Young Montague," Voldemort called out. Draco swallowed the gasp that threatened to leave his lips as his former fellow Slytherin and quidditch teammate tremblingly rose to his feet and stepped forward. "You were charged with the task of eliminating Clive Zuckerman, and the spawn he and his muggle whore of a wife created to taint this world. Have you completed it?"

"N-no, my Lord," Montague managed to stutter out. Draco felt a bit of pity for the older boy, but that was tempered by his disgust at the task Montague had been appointed. "But it wasn't my fault, my Lord. Dumbledore –"

"I see," the Dark Lord cut in with a deceptively serene voice. "So you have failed me?"

"No, my Lord," Montague practically shouted. "Please, give me another task and I will prove myself worthy to serve you." He was begging now.

"Perhaps," Voldemort intoned, as though he were considering the request. "But I think not. _Avada Kedavra_." Draco watched, appalled, as the boy who was only a few years his senior dropped dead to the ground. "Let this be a lesson to you all," the snake-like creature hissed as he nonchalantly put his wand away. A shudder went through the crowd of Death Eaters. "Do not fail me." With this command, Voldemort apparated away.

Draco was still frozen in horrified shock when Lucius forcefully pulled him to his feet, and returned them both to the manor. Without a word to his son, the Death Eater promptly apparated out of the manor once more.

Draco knew better than to ask where he was going.

* * *

Dinner had been a surprisingly lively affair, in Ginny's opinion. Molly Weasley had cooked a delicious meal – as always – and Molly, Arthur, Ginny and all of the Weasley boys save Bill had sat down for the hot meal. As per usual in Ginny's presence, the family had spoken of only trivial matters, avoiding the topic of the war. Normally, this would only irritate Ginny, but the small girl had worked to repress this feeling and focus on just chatting with her brothers. After the meal, the family had continued their idle talk over tea and cake, while Molly rocked a fussy Sabine. All in all, the evening had been quite nice. 

Ginny should have realized that it would not last.

In the predawn hours of the morning, Ginny was shaken awake by a disheveled Molly Weasley.

"Mum?" she questioned sleepily. "What's going on?" she managed to force out through a large yawn, as she struggled to sit up.

"Get your things together, Ginny," Molly commanded as she briskly went about Ginny's room, opening cupboards and drawers. "The portkey is set for us to leave in ten minutes. Quickly pack all of your things in your trunk, everything you will need for the school year as well, dear." Upon seeing that Ginny was still sitting on her bed, staring confusedly, she continued, "Quickly, quickly, we have to hurry," while pulling the young girl up and out of bed.

Ginny pulled her trunk out from under her bed, her confusion fading and alarm setting in, giving her the adrenaline to move hurriedly. As she frantically emptied out the shelves and drawers in her bedroom into her trunk, her mind worked to determine what may have happened. Was the Burrow under attack? Were Arthur, Ron, and the other boys alright? Had Voldemort gotten to Harry?

Ginny packed in record time, and was ready when Arthur came to shrink her trunk for easier travel, at least easing her mind of some worry. Once downstairs, Ginny saw that everyone was accounted for: Molly had packed up Sabine and her baby things, and the boys (minus Bill) were all present as well, though looking as rumpled and confused as she. Molly shushed Ron when he opened his mouth – undoubtedly to ask what in Hades was going on – and indicated that everyone move closer. The Weasleys all gathered around the old newspaper that would be serving as portkey, and Ginny felt the familiar tug almost immediately.

Once she had picked herself up from the floor after her less than graceful landing, Ginny looked around to find herself in one of the sitting rooms of 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Mum, what's going on?" Ron never was very patient.

Molly Weasley ignored the question as she bustled quickly out of the room, motioning for the younger Weasleys to follow. As she trailed behind the Weasley matriarch, Ginny noticed that Arthur seemed to have already left. Up two dark stairwells, and down a few halls, Ginny recognized the door to the room she had occupied last year with Hermione.

"Ginny, this will be your room again," Molly informed her. "Come, boys. Let's get you settled as well." Ginny waited to enter the bedroom until the other Weasleys had rounded the hall and disappeared from her line of sight, though she could still hear Ron's disgruntled grumbling.

Closing the bedroom door behind her, Ginny leaned against it and sighed. She would have to wait for answers, but her mind was still busily crafting various possibilities of what had happened. A part of her was numb, for she knew the wards on the Burrow were quite strong, and the move to Order headquarters indicated that something very big had gone very wrong.

Shaking her head slightly to dispel the ominous thoughts, the small red head went over to lay on her old bed. Sleep would not come, she knew. But dawn was only an hour or so away, and soon after, Molly Weasley would likely be making breakfast.

She could wait.

* * *

Ginny awoke to the sound of the bedroom door closing. 

She sat up with a start, somewhat disoriented, before the events of the early hours of the morning came back to her. Surprised that she had actually fallen asleep, Ginny looked up to find a distracted Hermione Granger, opening her trunk to unpack. Ginny saw her own trunk was once again its normal size and sitting by the doorway.

"Hermione?" Ginny questioned a bit groggily. The older girl quickly turned to face the red head, a startled look on her face.

"Oh, Ginny," she responded, "I thought you were asleep."

Ginny refrained from saying "I was," and just shrugged instead. She was quite desperate to ask the girl what had happened the night before, but was unsure how to begin a conversation. Her relationship with Hermione had not recovered since Ginny's biting words last December, and Hermione's new relationship with Harry certainly did not help matters.

"Have you heard what happened?" Hermione asked tentatively, wringing her hands.

Ginny was surprised by the question, and even more so by the other girl's apparent nervousness. "No, no one has told me anything." The words were not meant to be as cutting as they were delivered, and Ginny hid a wince as Hermione visibly flinched.

Then, surprisingly, the older girl straightened and came over to Ginny. Setting herself carefully on the edge of the red head's bed, her eyes darting everywhere but to the other girl, she spoke quietly. "The Quibbler was attacked last night." Ginny could not hold in her gasp, and she struggled to get up out of the suffocating blankets. She knew that Luna and her father lived in a loft on the top floor of the building where the paper was published. "Ginny, wait." The red head stilled as Hermione placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Luna is safe," she continued, and Ginny breathed a quiet prayer of thanks. When Hermione's grasp was not removed immediately, Ginny knew her gratitude had been too quickly delivered.

"What is it, Hermione?" she asked, almost fearfully.

"It's Mr. Lovegood," she said, finally releasing the younger girl's arm. Ginny held her breath. "The Death Eaters killed him." Ginny shook her head soundlessly. She had only met Mr. Lovegood a handful of times, but he had always been a sweet, jovial man. And he was so good to Luna, trying to be both mother and father to the girl after his wife's death… Now where would Luna go? Hermione seemed to know where Ginny' thoughts had wandered, as she continued. "Luna is in a room down the hall, and she isn't doing too well."

Ginny moved the bedding away, quickly standing. After a solemn nod of thanks to Hermione, she left the bedroom in search of her friend.

She found Luna in a room just a few doors down from her own.

Ginny could not stop the wetness that pooled in her eyes as she went to sit beside the young Ravenclaw. Luna did not acknowledge her presence, eyes staring unseeingly at the far wall.

"Luna?" Ginny tried to control the trembling in her voice, affecting a soothing whisper. Luna did not respond. Ginny could only imagine the pain the orphaned girl was going through, so she simply took one of the blonde's lax hands into her own, and leaned her head against the taller girl's shoulder. Gazing at the wall that seemed to hold the distraught girl's undivided attention, she continued in her whisper. "I'll be here when you're ready."

Neither girl moved to wipe the tears that cascaded down their cheeks.

* * *

The month following the Quibbler attack was ominously calm. 

Though the Order was still busily scurrying about, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Luna and Ginny were kept out of much of the activity. Apparently, the Order had been using the Quibbler to relay messages to operatives of the Light. Somehow, the Death Eaters had learned of this, indicating there was a leak somewhere in the Order. Harry, who had arrived from his stay with the Dursleys the same morning that Hermione had arrived from her visit with her parents in a safe house, was quick to point a finger directly at Snape. Dumbledore simply waved the accusation away, and instructed the students to refrain from any snooping for their own safety. The black-haired Gryffindor boy was not taking the exclusion well. Ron and Hermione seemed a bit more resigned to the situation, and worked to keep Harry distracted.

Well, Hermione did most of the distracting. Ron's discomfort with Harry and Hermione's new relationship was plain for Ginny to see, though he valiantly put up a brave front when in his best friends' presence. Maintaining such a façade was difficult, however, so Ron spent much of his time with Ginny and Luna.

Luna no longer sat staring at the wall, but she rarely left her room, at sparingly, and still did not speak much. The blonde had changed so much from the spacey girl Ginny had come to know and love the past few years. But the red head understood that sometimes the only way to deal with the hurt is to withdraw within. She only wished that Luna would soon be ready to emerge, for until she did so, she would never heal.

Amazingly, it was Ron that seemed to garner the most positive responses from the despondent girl. For instance, two weeks before, at the small dinner that had been held in honor of Harry's seventeenth birthday, he had not only managed to get Luna to attend, but also to enjoy a slice of Molly Weasley's infamously decadent chocolate cake.

Ginny could only be grateful to Ron for his presence and comfort to her friend. Though Luna always seemed pleased enough to see her, Ginny was quite aware of the light that brightened considerably in the Ravenclaw's eyes when Ron came to visit her. Ginny knew that Luna had never fully recovered from the crush she had carried for the older red head. Watching the two together over the past few weeks, she saw that idle affection slowly transform into something much more substantial. And, to her relief, the feelings did not appear to be one-sided.

Ginny herself had been splitting her time between sitting with Luna and finishing her summer assignments. Sabine had taken a liking to Luna, and the child seemed to lighten the depressive mood the older blonde was ensconced in, so Ginny often brought the baby when she visited her friend. Often, Ron would already be sitting with Luna when Ginny arrived, and the time the two red heads spent together in those weeks greatly healed the damage that had been done to their relationship since Ron had left for his first year at Hogwarts. And, although Ginny did not actively avoid Harry and Hermione, she was grateful that the two seemed content on their own. Well, maybe 'grateful' was not the right term, as Ginny still was not certain how she felt about their relationship.

An early morning two weeks before September 1 found a groggy Ginny handing her list of books and supplies for the coming year to a haggard-looking Tonks, as did the other Hogwarts students. Sighing into her barely-touched breakfast, Ginny tried not to think of the night before: she had dreamt once more of the mysterious dark-haired girl, though the red head was no closer to discerning the meaning of the vision. Shaking the thoughts away, the small Weasley realized that the others had finished, and stood to leave. Upon turning, however, she discovered that another was left at the table, picking idly at the food.

"Are you feeling alright, Tonks?" Ginny questioned quietly, approaching the once fun-loving girl.

The older girl, whose hair was now canary yellow, nodded tiredly. "I'm as well as can be expected, Gin. Thanks for asking." The half-smile the young auror attempted fooled no one. Ginny slowly nodded in acceptance, and watched as Tonks abandoned her nearly-full plate and left the dining room, the school lists clutched firmly in her fist.

The owls had arrived the morning before, bearing the school lists, as well as a letter predictably naming Hermione Granger Head Girl. Neither Ron nor Harry was appointed Head Boy, however, and Ginny kept her thoughts valiantly away from the likely candidate for the position. Also among the mail were Ginny and Luna's O.W.L. results. Both girls had done quite well, and Ginny was pleased with her marks: all _Outstanding_'s and _Exceeds Expectation_'s, totaling to a score that surpassed Percy's, but not Hermione's. Molly Weasley had not stopped beaming all day after seeing the report.

"Oh, Ginny, you're still in here." Ginny turned at Harry Potter's voice, and watched idly as the older boy poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice from the pitcher that had been left over from breakfast. She only raised one brow when Harry looked up at her lack of response. Ginny had not been alone with Harry since the detention they had served together for Snape back in December. And considering all that had happened since then, she did not know what to say to the boy.

"So I am," she said when she could no longer stand the awkward silence that ensued.

Harry fidgeted slightly before taking a sip from the glass in his hand. "Um, congratulations on your O.W.L.s," he said, obviously working to dispel the tension in the atmosphere.

This surprised Ginny, as she was used to Harry's quick retreats or cold shoulder when her presence cause him discomfort. "Thanks," she replied carefully. Ginny tried to find something more to say, to continue this unspoken truce, but she had nothing.

Apparently aware of the problem, Harry nodded a farewell and left the room.

A few minutes later, his exit was followed by that of one distracted red-headed girl.

* * *

Draco crumpled up the letter proclaiming him Head Boy, and threw it in the trash bin next to his desk. Lucius had been pleased when the owl had arrived the morning before with notice of his appointment, but Draco could not be bothered to care what his father thought about it. 

Flinging himself back onto his bed in an abysmal display of uncouth behavior, Draco tried to calm his turbulent thoughts.

He was proud of being named Head Boy – he truly was. But his mind was busy trying to deal with much larger issues.

In two weeks he would return to Hogwarts for his seventh year at Hogwarts. And once the school year was completed, he was expected to bow before a half-human creature and be willingly branded.

Thinking back on the Death Eater meeting he had been forced to attend the month before – thankfully, Lucius had thought once was enough – Draco could not fathom donning a mask, and killing and torturing with the savage gleefulness of some, or with the detachedness of others. He had not shared his experience that night with anyone, not even Blaise and Pansy. But the image of Montague's lifeless body falling to the cold, hard ground haunted his mind relentlessly.

And the knowledge that the former Slytherin's death was not the last of the night also disturbed the young Malfoy greatly. The uneasiness that had begun to churn deep within Draco when he had read about the attack on The Quibbler the next morning transformed fully into nausea when Lucius had arrived to breakfast looking particularly pleased. His father had mentioned nothing about the meeting the night before, and upon seeing the cover story of the attack, had only smirked. The Malfoy Lord had almost looked surprised when Draco had curtly excused himself from the table, leaving the older man contentedly spreading jam on his scone.

Now Draco found himself with a choice to make: He could not follow the Dark Lord, but neither could he sign on to be one of Potter's merry men. What was he to do?

His mother had warned him that the decision would not be an easy one. But it was his to make, and so much relied upon the path he chose. Thinking of the beautiful woman, who had once more become a withering shadow of the Malfoy patriarch, caused a clench in Draco's heart. Slowly, Draco stood from his bed, and went to his school trunk to retrieve a creased parchment. Returning to his bed, he sat on the edge while carefully unfolding his treasure. With a few whispered words, the hidden letter was revealed. Narcissa Malfoy's flowing script appeared before Draco's eyes, the ink as dark as it had been when he had received the correspondence last December.

_My Dearest Draco,_

_How I wish I had that trait that Gryffindors pride themselves on, that my cousin Sirius had in multitude: courage. Do no misunderstand, my son, for Godric's house is still mostly a collection of emotionally-charged fools, who see the world in black and white, and not the shades of gray that truly surround us. But their bravery is something I find myself longing for, as I write to you now. I should have told you, this past summer when I had finally had you to myself – away from your father's constant tyranny – just how special you truly are._

_No, darling, I am not spouting Hufflepuff nonsense. Nor is this a simple missive of a mother's love. Truth be told, I would have held this confession a bit longer, until you were older, and finished with schooling. But your father's… _activities_ have forced my hand. The time is nearing when Azkaban will hold the Dark Lord's supporters no longer. I have heard rumors, the briefest hints of plans, and the subtle winds whisper that the darkest of times is upon us. You will be safe at Hogwarts for the holidays, I know. I suppose there is no need now to hide why I truly wish for you to stay in the castle: Dumbledore can keep you safe, away from Lucius; I do not wish for that man to come back to the Manor to find you. Fear not; I shall indeed visit my dear sister Andromeda, so I too will take care to be away from the Malfoy grounds that still answer to Lucius' call, should he return._

_I have avoided the true purpose of this letter thus far. I would have liked to have stood before you, and looked into your eyes as I imparted my knowledge of your fate, your destiny. But that will not come to pass. So may this letter serve as my conduit…_

_You will recall, Draco, our talks of the Noble House of Black. It was my duty to educate you on your family history, and I can only hope I succeeded in passing on the pride in our ancestry to my only child. You have learned, as the Malfoy heir, that the title and properties of the Lord of each House have been passed down to the rightful descendent in each generation. The rules for inheritance were devised by the original twelve founders, upon the creation of the wizarding world: After seeing numerous contenders validly vie for the throne in muggle society – creating factions and discourse among supporters of different candidates – the Lords of the Wizards' Council decreed that the title of Lord, as well as all that that title entails, would be passed down to the eldest son of the currently reigning Lord. If the reigning Lord bore no son, the title would be passed to a brother, or the eldest son of the closest brother in age. Should none exist, the son of the Lord's daughter, or his closest niece by blood relation, would inherit. This system minimized the number of potential heirs, and kept discourse to a minimum at times when change in House leadership passed._

_The stipulations constructed by the original _Twelve_ succeeded quite well in allowing efficient transitions of title and properties of the Nobles. The founding Lords had realized early that wizard-kind did not have the luxury to fight over petty differences, or for the seat of power – not when muggles posed such a serious opposing threat to our world, by their sheer numbers alone… not to mention their destructive tendencies when faced with anything they could not understand, or found unnatural. So it came to pass, that for generations, the title of Lord has been inherited by the rightful heir without much creation of complications or spectacle._

_I fear that your inheritance will not follow so smoothly. _

_You know, Draco, that Sirius Black was my cousin; what you may not know, is that he was killed, months ago, in that awful skirmish at the Ministry of Magic, the same day your father was revealed to be a follower of the Dark Lord. Sirius was the rightful heir to the House of Black. My dearest Uncle Landon, the Lord of the House of Black, had had two sons – Sirius and Regulus. He had also had two younger brothers – my father, Draden Theran Black, and my Uncle Alphard. My own father had had three daughters – Bellatrix, Andromeda, and myself, while Uncle Alphard – blood traitor that he was – never did marry. When Regulus was killed in connection with the Dark Lord, my uncle had been devastated. Oh, my Uncle Landon was a good Lord, and while he was proud of the pure blood of his line, he refused to bow to He Who Must Not Be Named. Regulus' decision to join the Death Eaters – in the wake of Sirius' obvious abandonment of principles of Nobility – had greatly disappointed his father. Sirius' wrongful imprisonment to Azkaban followed not long after his brother's death. You were but a year old at the time, the time when the future of the House of Black became clearer… _

_It was never truly considered that I, the youngest daughter of the younger brother of the Lord of the House of Black, would give birth to the next House Lord. That is why my marriage to Lucius was so well-received… I could give him an heir to the House of Malfoy that would be of Black descent; these two great Houses had plotted to join for generations, and when the opportunity arose for a proper marriage, with the belief that the title of lordship of neither house would be compromised, an agreement was finally made. _

_There was a miscalculation, however._

_The Dark Lord, and his gruesome, cruel, and violent crusade – all under the guise of promoting pureblooded society – shook our world. Sirius should never have been put into Azkaban, and Regulus should certainly not have been killed by his own fellow Death Eaters… My eldest sister, Bellatrix, was found to be unable to have children when I was pregnant with you; this is why she joined You Know Who's cause: Since she could not perpetuate the line of purebloods by procreation, she chose to actively cleanse the wizarding world of those 'less worthy,' by becoming a Death Eater. Andromeda married a muggleborn, tainting her future bloodline, so I am somewhat grateful that she had only one daughter, and no son. The Lord of each of the twelve Houses has taken care for centuries to ensure that the next Lord is of pure blood, and it would have been a travesty to see someone unworthy as Lord of the House of Black... _

_I think you will see, my son, where this leaves you. You, Draco, are the reigning Lord of the House of Black. Since Sirius' death, I have held the title in trust for you, but it has been yours officially since your seventeenth birthday last month. Your father knows of your new status, and I fear that it has caused in him only more determination to have you join the ranks of the Dark Lord. I have no doubt, however, that you will lead the House of Black through these times of bloodshed, and away from the unworthiness of the creature your father calls Lord. _

_That is not why I worry, my son._

_You remember when I spoke with you, that last night in the Manor before you left for your sixth year at Hogwarts, regarding the magical energy passed on to each House Lord. I suspect that it lies latent in your blood as you read this now…_

_Never before has a wizard been decreed to inherit the titles of two Houses._

_Until now._

_I cannot be certain what will happen when you inherit the title of Lord of the House of Malfoy, as you were born to do. The creation and continuation of the wizarding world has been based upon the powers of the twelve Lords – even if those powers were not active. When Lucius does pass on, there will be a shift in the balance – there will be twelve Lords no longer. Instead, there will be ten Lords of the old ways, and then there will be you, my son – a Lord and Master of both the great Houses of Black and Malfoy. Your inheritance could be the tool to great advancement of our world, or great devastation: It is possible that, if mishandled, this concentration of old magic within you will break apart the taming restraints placed by the original _Twelve. _The spells keeping the wizarding world safe and separate from the muggle world – those placed by the founders – may not survive an overwhelming shift in the circle of power._

_Do you understand now, Draco, my hesitation to reveal the truth to you? While you may be well on the path to manhood, you are still my child… I did not wish to burden you with the truth of your future responsibilities, with the choice you will have to make regarding the path your father has set for you… When the time comes, it will be your duty to protect the lands and peoples of both Houses Black and Malfoy, and to ensure the continued survival of the European wizarding world. Should you abuse your twice-blessed powers, our world could crumble… _

_I have faith in you, my son, my Lord._

_My love always,_

_Mother_

As he cautiously hid the letter once more, his thoughts were clearer than they had been for months.

Draco had made his decision.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry, no individual responses for reviewers this time. All I can say is thank you to those of you still reading the story. I cannot apologize enough for the long delay. I never intended to let it last that long, and when I did get a chance to look at my yahoo mail, I was always inspired to write by those fans who let me know they were patiently waiting for an update. I found Chapter 7 to be the most difficult to write thus far. It is actually a piece that I have been working on -- on and off -- for the past year and a half. For that reason, I feel that it may be a bit choppy, and I apologize for that: I did try to make the different parts flow together as nicely as possible. I know there was no D/G action in this chapter, but Chapter 8 is back at Hogwarts, so that is something to look forward to. I am working on it now (I'm on Spring Break), and I hope to have a version ready for Beta reading in a few days. 

NOTE: Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know what you think.


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